Trish the Dish

I was washing my car in the garage. No, not the crazy type of washing that people do when they don't know shit about paint jobs and chemicals. I wash my car with tender loving care, with a chamois and special chemicals to prevent even the tiniest of score-marks from abrasive cleaners. I treat my baby like gold because to me, she is my sanctuary.

In the house, just beyond the door that connected garage and homestead, my pregnant wife was hamming it up with my parents. She was in the third trimester of pregnancy with our second child. I'd been through all of this before, the whole grandparents going crazy thing. John-John was asleep because little kids just are easier to deal with at supper if they aren't crabby and cranky. And my folks were fully intending to stay until darkness fell.

A golden sheen of late afternoon sunlight was shining through the open garage door. I was on my back on a trolley so I could slide right under my baby and see what was going on with her beautiful underbelly. My car is a show car so I like to keep her looking good inside and out. And I know enough car nuts to know they may as well have mirrors on their boots with how hard they'll look for her flaws at the next show.

Out in the back lane, I could hear kids playing in the distance, though none of our immediate neighbours have kids of their own. Most were old people, grandparents who had kids over on the weekends. Summer was coming but it wasn't quite here. There was hot weather alright but nothing special.

That's when I saw Trish the Dish rolling around on her roller blades. She was a girl who lived down the street, about ten years younger than me. Out of highschool but not quite interested in college yet. She must have been nineteen or twenty years old but you wouldn't guess it looking at her tits. And we all did. That's how she got the name 'the Dish'.

Trish had her hair up in pigtails, dyed as white blonde as she could get it. There was a movie out just now that had all the girls thinking they were the main hero, a real hottie in a schoolgirl's uniform, short skirt and all. Trish had eyes as brown as oil and skin as tanned as a russet potato. She had one of those tramp stamp tattoos on her lower back, the tribal kind mixed with flowers that if you asked her, she'd tell you didn't mean a thing. But you just knew she loved the attention when her short tops rose up and her jeans or skirts slid down her curvy hips.

I couldn't help but look. Watching her twirl in a circle then keep right on going down the road was interesting enough, but the way the warm breeze pulled her skirt up and revealed those cute pink panties was what I was looking for. It made me hard in my pants.

My wife was a fragile creature, real delicate flower, and that meant that when she was pregnant, sex was completely off limits. The slightest amount of stress and she'd start spotting. Touching, fondling, asking for a blow job, all of it was a big no-no. I'd learned that the first time around. So by this time, even a clothed chick like Trish was going to get me hot and bothered. And my overalls were feeling mighty tight by the time she dipped out of view.

I gave a sigh and rolled back under the car. She was a beauty. The car, I was thinking, not Trish. But then I heard a noise over on our slanted driveway. I rolled myself out from under the car and almost banged my head on Trish's knee.

There she was, in all her youthful glory. She was squatting down between my baby, my car, and my wife's minivan. She had a palm on each vehicle, and her knees were spread. Her skirt had ridden up her thighs and was pressed between her ample breasts and her legs, just like her way too tight shirt. I couldn't help but glance down and damn, the slut wasn't wearing panties. And in the chubby cleft of her fuzzy pussy, I saw a piercing I'd only seen in adult tattoo magazines; she had a barbell under her flesh that had a top ball in the skin of her mons and another peeking out just above where her clit hood was. I looked up to her face, trying to look very unimpressed, but damn, that was a very serious piercing for a girl her age. I knew piercers who wouldn't even work on girls under eighteen. I could just imagine Trish the Dish rushing in on her birthday a year ago and demanding someone give her one of the most tantalizing body modifications she had ever heard of. I could also imagine being the person doing it too. And it wasn't having a good effect on me.

"Mr. Robertson!" she said with a giggle. "Are you looking at my panties?"

"You know I ain't," I said, picking a cloth rag out of my top chest pocket and wiping the grease from my fingers. I tried not to look at her but she was making it pretty hard. And as if I needed anything 'harder' just now.

"Yep I know," she quipped in a cute and pleasant voice. "Because my panties are right here!"

With that, she dropped those sweet scented undies right on my face. I was tempted to smell them, I wanted to press them to my lips and feel if there was any moisture there. Any number of perverted things, I wanted to do it all. But instead, I picked up her panties and looked her in the eye, and used those undies to wipe my hands clean.

"Want these back?" I asked, thinking I was so cool and collected given the circumstances.

"Uh, no...you keep 'em," she said quietly. "I guess I better go."

"Yeah, I guess you better..."

As she stood up and rolled away, I gulped hard and tucked her panties into my pocket with my oil rag. Then I gently pushed myself back under my car, trying to force all thoughts of Trish out of my head.

Suddenly there was that noise again, the sound of rollerblades riding up the cement of my driveway. This time, though, it was on the other side of the car. I looked sideways to see Trish stopping next to my legs.

"What are you up to," I said quietly, almost in a half whisper. Some part of me didn't want to hear her respond, wanted to just see what was going on. I didn't want her to leave, not now that I knew she wasn't wearing panties. Now that I knew she was completely buff under that short skirt.

"You'll see," she whispered back, obviously having heard me.

Trish dropped to her knees, her hands quickly undoing the lower half of the snaps of my overalls. I thought to myself, my gods, this is a dream. I'm asleep under the car again and having that horny dream. The one where I find the perfect slut to fulfill all of my depraved fantasies. But that didn't feel right. Her hands slipping into my overalls and pulling my dick out felt very real. More real than any dream.

I groaned and put my hands on the sides of the trolley, then to the floor, determined to push myself out from under the car. But then Trish surprised me and began to devour my cock. She literally devoured it, forcing her head all the way down so that every long inch of me was inside that warm wet tight mouth. I could feel her tongue thrashing around against the shaft. One of her hands slid into my pants and began to tug and pull at my balls through my underwear.

My eyes rolled back in my head. I just about came on the spot. She was working me like a pro, like a porn star. I couldn't believe how wide her mouth was around me, and how far down her throat she somehow got me to go. She must have had some sexucation before this day. She was hot, she was drooling and my cock was throbbing.

I didn't have to ask, I didn't have to warn her. When I started to cum, she knew before the first drops came out. And all she did was hold her mouth over the top half of my prick while her hand furiously stroked the base inches of my meat up to her lips. I hissed. I fought with myself to hold back, but there was no way any human male could resist this girl's efforts. One hand tugging on my sack as my balls tightened, the other jerking me off into the perfection of her mouth. It was too much. And I blew my load hard over Trish's tongue.

She gulped. She choked. She gagged and swallowed. Not a single drop of cum landed on my overalls, my groin, nothing. I was as clean as if I had never cum at all. But Trish didn't tuck me away like I thought she might. She giggled like a drunken fool or something, and made my dick bounce and wiggle, as if it were some toy.

"Trish," I said warningly, "stop it."

"Make me," she said with a laugh back.

I pushed myself slowly out from under the car. Without looking at her, I stood up to my full height, my hands on my hips. I glanced outside of the garage. No one was wandering around there, and I doubted they'd be able to see into the shadows of the garage where I stood by the front of my car. They'd have to bend and look and shade their eyes and anyone walking in the back lane was likely out to see the sights, not snoop.

"C'mere," I said, backing up slightly into the darker part of the garage by the front grill of my car.

"Why?" she asked me, following anyway.

"Because," I whispered as she got closer, "I'm going to show you what happens to bad girls like you."

I grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her close. Then, without a care about whether she might resist or not, I pulled her top up and quickly squeezed one of her full tits in my hand. I pushed the breast flesh to a peak, that forced the nipple to peak and swell. And then I lowered my head to her tit, sucking a large portion of skin and areola into my mouth. Now it was my turn to slobber.

My other hand reached down to her skirt and cupped her pussy, giving it a possessive press with my fingers. It was easy for my middle finger to slide right up into the cleft of her privacy, and I wasn't surprised to find her wet and heated. Steamy, even. She was acting like a slut, and this was how sluts liked to be treated, like they were porno actresses. My wife had acted like that once, a long time ago. I had just figured that part of my life was over. And then the powers that be sent me Trish the Dish.

I tapped against the slit of her pussy with my finger, almost like I was knocking for entry. I didn't need or want her permission though. This had all gone too far the moment she'd shown up in my garage minus panties. I hadn't thought about forcing myself on her really, but you could tell it was just one of those moments you get lost in, that propel you forward to the next action no matter what your morals and principles tell you to do.

My finger pressed deeper into her cleft and found her tiny little lips that were curtaining her vagina, like the second set of curtains on a beautiful cabaret stage. I pushed my finger in, curling it so it could press up inside her. Gods she was so tight. No virgin, by any means, but I was surprised at how sweet that pussy hole was, grasping around my finger like it was alive of its own means.

I pulled my mouth off her tit and smiled wickedly down at Trish. She was leaning back against the hood of my car and if she had been any other girl, I would have been barking for her to back the fuck up and get away from my baby. But in this moment, my car was the perfect scenario, the perfect scene setter.

"You like that?" I asked Trish. "You like it, little slut?"

"I'm...I'm..." she mewled. "I'm not a slut!"

"Oh ho, yes you are..."

I pulled my hand back for a moment and released her tit. Then I spun her around so that Trish's palms slapped flat and hard against the shining hood of my car. Her little ass was so round and pert that it was nothing for her skirt to be held up by it. I put my hand on her spine beneath her top, then put my other hand back on her sex, from behind this time. I used my index and ring fingers to pry her swollen labia apart. Now my middle finger could tap along the length of her exposed sex, the pad of my finger slapping rhythmically and quickly against her hooded clitoris.

"You're my little slut now...aren't you, Trish," I purred as my finger teased and toyed at her pussy hole. I shoved it up into her again and began to fuck her with it.

My other hand lifted her top, slipping around the front of her body to pull it off her chest. I fondled her tits one at a time, then pushed her with a hand against her spine until her bare breasts were over the cold metal of my car. She squealed, as I knew she would, as soon as her hot titty flesh touched the steel of my old car. It was such a sight, seeing her bent over the hood like that. Her ass sticking out, my hand toying with her cunnie. And she was moaning just like a little bitch in heat. At any moment, this hot little dish was going to cum, right there.

She didn't disappoint me. I continued to fuck into her pussy, my hand on her back pressing her chest against the coolness of my hood. Her cunt pulled and tugged at my finger, and I was rewarded with the drippings of sweet nectar all over my hand. My fingers were thoroughly coated and I loved it. I was tempted to lick it clean, or have her do the honours, but then another idea came into my head.

"Oh, Trish," I whispered heatedly as I moved behind her.

I grabbed the globes of her ass in one hand, pushing them together, fondling one, then the other. My wet hand I drew down the crack of that forbidden zone, right up to the hidden rosette of her asshole. I coated it completely, and Trish struggled, knowing full well what I was up to and what I was intending.

"I'm...I'm not a slut!" she insisted, thankfully keeping her voice low. The fact that she wasn't ready to scream gave me hope though. She wasn't going to stop me, and that was good, because I so didn't want to stop.

"Just admit that you're my slut, then," I said to her softly.

I picked my dick up in my hand and rubbed it against the heat of her ass's entry. It was wet now and that wetness was threatening to cool if I didn't make use of it soon. I wasn't about to hold back. With a single grunt, I started to feed my cock into the girl's ass.

She was tight. I could tell by the way she was objecting and wiggling side to side that she hadn't done this much, if at all before. That just spurred me on. You mean to tell me something of this delicious little neighbourhood whore would be mine first, just for me? And that was more than I'd expected of any dream.

I pushed passed the strong ring of virgin ass muscles that meant to tell me 'out, not in'. Then with a pop I was beyond them, their warning ignored. I was in her ass. I put my hands on her bare hips and drew her back towards me, determined to watch as I made her devour my dick again, just like she had before with her mouth. Only this time, the tightness was near friction causing but oh so close to perfection. My thumbs pulled on her ass flesh without releasing the soft meat of her hips, so her ass cheeks were drawn apart and I could watch. Inch by inch disappeared into her. It was the most wonderful feeling.

Once I was completely hilted, I took a moment to rest, panting and reveling in the tight feel of the girl around me. I could feel myself throbbing, I could feel HER throbbing. It was incredible. This was something my wife would never let me do. I mean, I'd done it to her a few times in the beginning, when the sex was hot and she was willing to do anything to get me and keep me. That's what women do, it's like they change when you put a ring on their finger and make a commitment. I couldn't complain too much though. I loved my wife for her personality as well as her great body, pregnant or not. You can't motorboat a personality.

Trish, here, was all slut. All hot young flesh waiting to be used and abused. I couldn't imagine that I'd ever fuck her again after this. So I wanted to make the most of it.

I moved my hands from her hips and slid them around the curves of each ass cheek. Then I pried her apart so I could watch. I drew myself out slightly and then pushed back in. Each time I pulled out and pushed forward, I moved faster. Soon, I was fucking Trish the Dish so hard that my car was rocking. It was threatening to slide on the smooth cement of my garage floor, and I was doubly glad for my good taste in brakes.

I fucked into Trish, and I could tell by listening that she was trying so hard not to scream. I didn't tell her to keep quiet, though I sure didn't want my wife or parents to come out and see what I was doing. I had been grumpy and just wanted to be alone for awhile, I'd told them. My wife had said this was the equivalent of a nap for me and had let me go with nothing but a tired giggle.

And here I was, having my 'me time', fucking one of the neighbourhood sluts. It was her first time doing anal, I told myself. Just because that made it all the more hot in my mind.

I rammed myself in and out of that girl as hard and as fast as I could. If she was going to be a slut, then I wanted to be the one who could brag about stretching her ass for the first time. Of course, there was no one in the world I would tell this to. No way. And that made it all the more erotic for me.

Finally I was cumming. I pushed myself as deep into her guts as I could, holding inside her as each spurt of cum gushed out of me. It was less of the load she'd swallowed before but it felt just as good, if not better.

I didn't want Trish the Dish to drip, and my dick was softening. My options were pretty limited. Then I remembered the panties in my pocket. I couldn't have kept them anyways. I pulled them out and as my dick softened and withdrew, I used my finger to stick the soft soiled pink material into Trish's asshole. I helped her stand up and I pulled her skirt down. Then I held her from behind, my hands on her upper arms and my lips at her ear.

"Are you a slut, Trish?"

"N-no..." she started to say, but I gave her a shake at the same time as kissing her neck.

"Say yes. Say you're my slut."

She gulped and turned her head to look at me, dark eyes blinking up at me with a hidden fire that told me she liked it. Liked every word.

"I'm...I'm your slut, Mr. Robertson," she breathed, like a perfect little seductress.

"If you're a good girl, we can play again. I'll make it worth your while. But only if you stop fucking everyone else. And save yourself for me. Think you can do that?"

I swear I felt her legs nearly collapse. The idea was too hot to her, never mind its effects on me. She nodded weakly and I felt her hand slip around behind her, as if to pull those panties out. I quickly grabbed her wrist and flicked my tongue at her ear. I couldn't believe how coolly I was acting, how much in control I was of all of this. But it felt so right.

"Leave them in til you get home," I whispered. "Just keep your skirt down for a change. Then, when you get home, and every time you get horny, you think of me. If you can find me, you can fuck me. But if you can't find me, you fuck those little fingers of yours and then, tell me all about it..."

Only then did I release her. She waddled away from me, taking steps on her rollerblades as she moved between the mini van and the car. By the time she was rolling down the driveway, in small and careful gliding steps so as not to lose the panties out of her ass, I was all done up.

So there it was. I had my own little slut to enjoy. I shook my head and wiped my car down, making sure there were no smudge marks on her. Then I went inside, kissed my wife, and had a good long shower. What a day!