Yolanda goes to Jiffy Lube

Yolanda Monroe eased her white 2009 Nissan Altima into one of the work bays of her local Jiffy Lube. It was a cold December evening, just before Christmas. She wouldn't be here except her baby had a weird knocking sound coming from under the hood.

She glanced around the place, but couldn't see any workers. 'That's weird. If no one is here, why was the door open?' She beeped her horn and was rewarded with a door opening further in. The tall, blonde, slab of beef walking towards her made her stomach flip, and palms sweaty. Her throat went dry as her heart rate increased. The light blue overalls he wore clung to his muscled form like a second skin. A brief flash of pulling down the zipper with her teeth almost made her swoon. 'Get a hold of yourself, girl.' Then, 'I'd love for him to get a hold of me. Damn.'

He reached a long arm out and flicked a switch. An instant later, the garage was flooded with light, giving her a good look at him. He was about six feet even, and looked to be either a football player, or a professional wrestler. Before she could catch herself, she pictured him in nothing but boots, kneepads, elbow pads, and the little underwear style tights. She grew damp. 'Fucking hormones. It would have to be just before Aunt Flo visits that I meet this guy. If I'm not careful, I'm going to be throwing myself at him. Jeremy wouldn't be happy with that. Is he ever-' She crushed the thought. She was married, and that was that.

She opened the car door, and rose to her full five foot two height. He stepped further into the light, and his piercing blue eyes took her breath away. 'Damn. Why'd he have to have blue eyes?' Blues were one of her weaknesses. This, plus her hormones making her horny, and not having sex made for a dangerous combination. Her husband's touch made her skin crawl any more.

"Welcome tae Jiffy Lube, cailín álainn. I'm Michael. How may I be of service to you?"

'Fuck. He's Irish, too? I'm doomed.' She ran her fingers through her thick raven hair, and smiled at him. Her hair was her best, and as usual, only decent feature. "I'm Yolanda, and I'm having car troubles, I think."

Michael nodded. "It's what I be here for. What seems tae be the issue?"

"There's a knocking coming from under my hood."

"Is it when ye start your car, after ye've been running it for a while, or something else?"

"It varies. Sometimes when it's been running, and sometimes when I start it."

He nodded again. "Pop the hood for me, would ye?"

"Sure." Yolanda slid behind the wheel and pulled the hood lever, causing the lid to raise an inch.

Michael walked over and raised the hood the rest of the way. He placed the bracing rod in place and got a light. "Start her up, would ye, cailín álainn?" A few seconds later, the Altima purred to life, then started knocking. "Ms. Yolanda, would ye turn off the engine and come here?"

She shut it off, and came around the side to where he peered inside the engine. "Yes?"

"Yer timin' belt has slipped. It be a simple fix, and rather expensive." He glanced at her. "If ye'd like, I can teach ye how to place it where it belongs so ye don't have tae pay five hundred dollars tae have someone fix it."

"Really?" He nodded. "Wow. I've never had anyone offer to teach me anything useful like this."

"Well, look here, cailín álainn." He proceeded to show her how to take the battery cable off, remove the distributer cap and rotate the engine. As he instructed her, he'd have her reach in and use the tools as often as he would do it himself. His hand covered hers by accident for a few seconds, causing a spark to shoot up her arm before he jerked away.

Heart pounding, but a little hurt, she looked over at him. She was amused and relived to see Michael had turned a bright red. 'I wonder...' When he turned back, she reached up, and stroked her hair. 'Was that casual to Michael, or was it obvious I wanted him to look?'

She saw him look at her playing with her black tresses, then his gorgeous peepers slid further down her body. As they did, she became more aware of their closeness, and the scent emanating from him. It was the smell of engine grease mixed with the scent of leather, and the slight mint fragrance of Brut aftershave, or cologne. They were intoxicating together.

His gaze came up to hers, and she could see the naked want in his eyes. She bit her side of her lower lip, and gasped when his attention locked in that slight movement. 'I have his undivided attention,' she thought, peering at him. 'This is new. I wonder how far it'll go.' She surreptitiously slid her hand up and gently scratched the side of her breast. He was riveted. His tongue flicked out to wet his lip, a flash of pink that made her knees weak. 'You're a married woman. Stop playing with this man before you get burned.' She chose to ignore the inner voice. Her hand stole up, and caressed her throat. He swallowed hard. 'I wonder...'

"Michael?" Her voice was soft.

He started, and flushed brick red. "A-aye?"

"Do you have a girlfriend?" 'Why the hell did you ask him that, girl?'

"N-nay."

She reached out and slid her finger up his large forearm. 'Ooh. That's solid muscle.' He swallowed with an audible click. "Why not?"

"I h-have diff...diff...troubles ta-talkin' to them."

"How can a big, strapping man like you have difficulties talking to women? I'm sure they're falling all over themselves to be with you."

"N-nay. Th-tha l-l-ladies only want guh-guys they can talk tae. Nuh-not stutterin' galoots like me."

"You're not a galoot." 'What does that even mean?'

"Just talk to them the same way you did with the girl who relieved you of your virginity." She smiled up at him.

He turned away. "Himemergin."

She walked around in front of him. "What?"

"I'm a virgin," he whispered, shame evident in his voice.

Her eye flew wide. "Really?"

He crossed his big arms over his barrel chest. "You don't have to sound so delighted." His brogue had disappeared.

"Are you kidding? I am delighted!"

His left eyebrow quirked up as his lips sank into a frown. He straightened to his full six foot height. "Why?"

Her eyes sparkled like fresh-polished diamonds. "Women love the idea of being a guy's first. Virgins are so much fun."

"Really?" His head tilted to the left as his hands dropped to his sides. "Why is that?"

She tentatively placed her hands on his chest, then pulled back as if burned. "Um..." 'What are you doing, Yolanda? Get the damned car repair paid for, and get out of there. If Jeremy were to find out you've been flirting with this guy, you know...'

Michael watched Yolanda struggle with something. He knew she was about to tell him something important, but couldn't think of what it might be. He took in her tiny body dressed in blue jeans and a white blouse with mother-of-pearl buttons. She was curvy in all the right places, and he fought to ignore the growing hardness in his underwear. There seemed to be an inexplicable sadness about her. 'How can anyone this beautiful be sad? Her boyfriend probably fawns over her constantly. I know I would.' She turned back to the car and leaned down to peer at the engine.

"So, are we--"

He obeyed some impulse that made him reach out and cup her cheek. She looked over at him, hazel eyes wide. He gently pulled her around to stand before him."

"What were ye about tae say, cailín álainn?"

"What does that mean?"

"Beautiful girl." Unexpectedly, her gorgeous eyes welled up. "Hey, hey, what be wrong, lass?"

She swallowed. "You've been nicer to me in the last hour and a half than anyone has been to me in the last twenty years." She sniffed.

Michael took her by the hand and lead her back to his office. As they went in, he punched the button to lower the bay door. As it trundled down, it cut off the biting wind and swirling snow.

He gave her a box of tissues and guided her to the bathroom. While she straightened herself out, he started to brew a pot of coffee. He couldn't stand the stuff, but most of his customers loved it.

'I'm going to do it. I hope she doesn't go spare, and slap me before doing a runner.' Since she was taking a while in the bathroom, he decided to quickly change out of his work clothes. The billowing snow outside his window told him Yolanda would be his last customer. He opened the closet door, and unzipped his coverall. He kicked off his boots and shrugged out of the tight garment. He pulled on his jeans, and heard the bathroom door open.

Yolanda stepped out of the bathroom, and flicked the light off. She froze in place when she caught sight of his broad, muscular back on the other side of a mahogany desk. As she looked closer, she noticed a network of scars, including an intriguing crescent shaped one on his left side, along what she called the "short ribs." By the time she crossed the room, Michael had turned to face her. Black denim jeans clung snugly to his hips. A blue chambray shirt was held lightly in his big hand. 'I wonder what his hands will be like on my skin?' She swallowed, hard, as her breathing quickened. She'd had a long internal debate about what she now had planned. Her hormones, Michael, and his obvious attraction won out over the marriage certificate, and her fear of her husband. She'd reasoned that she had to take this opportunity. It would be her only indiscretion, and she wanted to know what it would be like to be touched with the type of attraction, and awe that she saw in his eyes. She knew, that even when she insisted he be rough, her preferred type of sex, he'd still be gentle. 'Am I really going to do this?'

She placed her hands over his bare chest. The heat of his flesh made her release a breath she was unaware of holding. He was simultaneously hard, and velvety soft. She trailed her fingers down his torso, grinning when his taut, smooth belly drew in as she skimmed the surface. She tilted her head back, and locked gazes with him.

"Kiss me." Her voice was soft, but the command was apparent.

Michael gently cupped her cheeks and slanted his mouth over hers. His tentativeness, and hesitation gave proof of his inexperience. Yolanda wrapped her arms around his neck, twined her fingers in his hair, and took over the kiss.

She nipped his lower lip, and slid her tongue into his mouth when his lips parted. She touched his tongue with her own, and beckoned his to follow her movements in the kiss. She traced his teeth, and swirled her tongue around his. He responded in kind, and then she lightly suckled at his tongue. She was delighted when several seconds later, he led her to return to his mouth and he sucked at hers. She moaned against his lips when he instinctively reached down and cupped her ass with both of his massive hands. She broke the kiss. "Squeeze my ass hard," she gasped.

"Ah-are ye sure?"

She nodded. He obeyed, squeezing her ass and inadvertently pulled her hard against him. 'Holy shit. He's huge. Will he fit?' His hardness throbbed against her sensitive mound, making her shiver in anticipation. 'Shit. I'm not going to be able to take my time with Michael like Ron took his with me.' She pushed the thought of her fifth lover out of her mind and returned her focus to the man who had her in his muscular arms. She pushed away from him, and sat on the desk behind her. "Unbutton my blouse. Be gentle and take your time."

He nodded, and slowly worked each button through its hole. When he reached the area when the blouse was tucked in, Michael reached to unbutton her jeans. She slapped his hand and he looked back at her passion darkened eyes.

"Reach in and touch my breasts." He slid his hand into her blouse and clasped his paw on her boob.

"Ouch!" She slapped his hand again. "Not so hard. Be gentle."

His left eyebrow quirked upward again. He thought for a few minutes, then grinned. "Like the engine of a Mustang SRT8."

"Huh?"

In response, he lightly caressed her left breast through her bra, and ever so gently cupped her whole breast. She moaned, and arched her back, pressing her breast against his hand. "Don't forget the other one," she whispered hoarsely. He placed his hand over her left breast, palming it, then gently lifted it up and outward before relaxing and reaching down to her jeans. She stood so he could unbutton and unzip them. "Touch my panties."

Michael slipped his finger inside her jeans and brushed against her venus mons. Her hips bucked to meet his hand. Yolanda pushed his hand away, and stood. "Take my jeans off, and go to your knees as you do so." As he obeyed her command, the heat radiating from her sex caressed his face. There was an intoxicating aroma coming from her pink panties. He paused on his knees with her jeans around hers. "What're you doing?" He ignored her question, entranced by the bright red ribbons drawn on her panties. 'What would happen if I traced these designs?' He reached up, and barely grazing the satin, traced a ribbon close to her left thigh.

At his touch, lightening shot through her body, causing her knees to buckle. She threw her hands on his broad shoulders to keep from falling. 'Shit! What was that? Did he just make me come?' His finger traced the same spot, just a little firmer. The electricity surged through her again. "Ohmigod." Her whole body trembled and shook. Her insides vibrated. He traced the outline of her though her underwear and fireworks went off behind her eyes. Her muscles locked and her breathing stopped. Her head was tilted back, a silent scream directed to the ceiling. All awareness tunneled down to the sensation of his finger gliding around her sex, then exploded outward. Her body went completely limp. Her pent up cry came out in a loud cry as her orgasm washed through her. Dimly, she was aware of her hips bucking against his hand once, twice, three times as pure ecstasy flowed through her being.

Warmth radiated throughout her body as she came back to herself. She beamed at Michael. 'That was amazing. And...' "Intense."

"Guh-good, cailín álainn?"

Eyes wide and glowing, she nodded. She wiped sweat from her forehead, pushing her hair back at the same time. "Very much so."

He grinned. "What be next, taibhseach?"

Part of her was curious about what he called her this time, but the greater part of her wanted to continue. "Pull my panties down." He hooked his index fingers over the waistband of her satin underwear, and slowly tugged them down to where her jeans sat bunched just below her knees. "Stand up." When he did so, she unsnapped his jeans and pushed them down together with his black boxers.

'What's with guys and wearing black?' She wondered idly before looking at his hardness. 'He's not gonna fit. I'm sure of it.'

She wrapped her small hand around his erection, and smiled when he groaned and twitched. She slid her hand up and down him, delighting in his sounds of pleasure. When his knees buckled a little from her thumb grazing the underside of the tip, she felt powerful, like she could take on the world.

'He's so much bigger than me, could probably snap me in half like a twig, yet I made him groan in pleasure, and almost fall.' She reached under him with her other hand and gently cupped his sack. His head rolled back on his shoulders and he moaned aloud. 'I wonder what would happen if I did...' She made a circle with her thumb and index finger and twisted it, gently, just behind the ridge of his dick.

"Oh, god! Yolanda!"

He swelled, and thickened more. His sack drew up tighter. 'I can make him cum, right now,' she thought wonderingly. Instead, she released him and turned around. She bent over his desk, legs parted. "I want you inside me, Michael. Now." He opened his eyes, a bit disgruntled, and achy, when she stopped, but the sight of her leaning on his desk, firm, smooth ass on display with her legs parted and showing the curve of her labia, made him forget all about his minor upset. At her command, he angled his dick down to her opening, and slid into heaven. She felt like a hot, wet, velvet fist gripping him firmly.

Yolanda grunted from his unfinessed entry. It hurt a bit, but it was a delicious pain. When he started to pull back, she raised her hand behind her. "Wait." She panted a bit. "Not yet. Whew. Let me get used to you."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no." She panted a bit more. "No need for sorry. I forgot to tell you to go slow." He twitched deep inside her, causing her to moan. "Slide your hands over my hips, and sides. Get my body used to you again." He did as instructed. 'Jesus. How is it that someone so big is so gentle?' His calloused hands glided over the round bubble of her butt, then passed over her hips. He paused and gave them a gentle squeeze and she groaned. She grew wetter and wiggled her butt a little. This caused him to sink in a bit further.

"Ohmigod! I've never been this full." His hands glided over her back and one found its way to her front, and skimmed over her labia. Another lightning bolt ripped through her. She gripped the sides of the desk, as her wetness ran down the inside of her thigh. 'Uggghh!' "Pull back, slow, and then thrust back in, also slow."

Michael slowly withdrew, staring in fascination as her labia puckered outward along his dick. He withdrew until just the head was inside her, then even more slowly slid back into her. Her moans and gripping pussy almost had him cum right then, but he bit his tongue, not wanting to embarrass himself. 'If she keeps squeezing me like this, I'm not going tae resist. Should I ask her tae stop? Oh god. I'm gonna...' "Taibhseach, I'm gonna cum!"

In response, she squeezed him tighter. He swelled, and twitched, then thrust deep inside her. A split second later, her insides were bathed by splashes of his hot seed. The third spurt sent her over the edge. Her cries blended with his, echoing through the office, and into the empty garage.

His hands gripped her hips a few seconds later, and he slowly resumed thrusting inside her.

"Ohmigod, Michael! What the hell?"

"By tha sound o' delight in yer voice, ye've never had anyone ready for a second round?"

"Mmm. Nooo."

The sound of his hips slapping rhythmically against her butt filled the air. She ran her fingers through her hair, and bit her lip. "Slap my ass."

"Huh?"

"Quick. Slap my ass. Spank me!" He drew his hand back and swatted her derriere, hard. The sting melted into pleasure, sending tingles running up her spine. "Again." He obeyed. "Ohhh," she groaned. Then. "Pull out."

He withdrew and she pushed him back. She turned to face him, and pushed her clothes the rest of the way to the floor. She went to her knees and took him into her mouth. For the first time, she tasted herself. She pushed the thought of that away, and concentrated on him. She slid her tongue around the tip of his dick, then down its length. He groaned, and fisted his hand in her hair. 'Ohmigod. This is so hot. It's like he's making me his. Time to show him something else fun...'

She gently nibbled the side of his dick, then ran her tongue back and forth over it before swallowing him once more. She took as much of him into her mouth as she could. She stopped short of gagging herself, and he allowed it. His hand is in my hair, yet I'm still in control. Holy shit. That's amazing.' A few moments later, he tugged under her arms. She let him slip out of her mouth, and looked up to find him looking down at her. Michael lifted Yolanda to her feet and set her back on his desk, her legs spread wide. He kicked off his clothes and sat in the chair before the desk. He was positioned perfectly between her legs. He gently stroked her swollen labia with his finger while staring into her eyes.

"Teach me tae please ye, cailín álainn." His smooth tenor was desire roughened to a ragged baritone.

'Oh fuck. Is this guy for real? She peered closely into his eyes, trying to focus. His fingers, gliding over and between her labia and around her clit, made it hard to. She grabbed his hand to still it. 'Focus, girl.' Michael maintained strong eye contact with little blinking. His pupils were completely dilated, his breathing slow and steady, despite their recent exertions. She got a fluttery sensation in her belly. 'Yes he is. Wow.' This was new. Still...