Sissy's Mechanic Melts Over Her Stocking-Covered Surprise

The garage smelled of motor oil, metal, and the faint metallic tang of night air drifting through the open bay door. Sissy’s heels clicked across the concrete as she stepped out of her dead coupe, the short black mini-skirt clinging to the swell of her ass like it had been painted on. Her white blouse was unbuttoned just enough to show the lace edge of a push-up bra, and the garter belt beneath the skirt held up sheer black stockings that shimmered under the fluorescent lights. At twenty-two, she knew exactly what she looked like: a cock-hungry little slut who had broken down on purpose.

Jax wiped his hands on a greasy rag, muscles flexing under a tight gray tank top that left his thick arms and broad chest on full display. Thirty-five, bearded, and built like he bench-pressed engines for fun, he took one look at her and forgot how to breathe. The way her hips swayed, the glossy lips, the long lashes—she was all woman until she moved just right. Then the secret between her thighs made itself known.

“Car died about two miles back,” Sissy purred, leaning against the fender. “Think you can make her purr again, big guy?”

Jax’s gaze dropped. She turned, pretending to check the hood latch, and bent forward. The tiny skirt rode straight up. Black garter straps framed the perfect globes of her ass, the sheer nylon stretched tight over smooth skin. Between her thighs, the unmistakable bulge of her cock pressed against the front of delicate black panties, already half-hard and thickening.

Jax’s cock surged inside his work jeans so fast it hurt.

He cleared his throat. “Pop the hood. I’ll take a look.”

While he leaned over the engine, Sissy hopped onto the workbench beside him, crossing her long legs slowly. The silky rasp of nylon on nylon filled the garage. She uncrossed, then crossed again, letting the pointed toe of one stocking-clad foot drag lazily up the inside of his thigh. The touch was feather-light, but Jax’s knuckles went white on the wrench.

“Oops,” she whispered when her foot “slipped” and brushed the thick ridge now tenting his zipper. “Clumsy me.”

Jax’s breathing grew ragged. He kept pretending to work, but his eyes kept sliding to the smooth thighs spread just enough to tease. Sissy swung her legs, letting the heels dangle, then dropped her keys with a deliberate clatter.

She slid off the bench and bent at the waist, ass pointed straight at him, knees straight. The skirt flipped completely up. The sheer black crotch of her stockings was now stretched obscenely over her fully hard cock. The fat head had pushed past the waistband of her panties, smearing a wet spot against the nylon. Her smooth balls were clearly outlined, heavy and tight.

Jax snapped.

He spun her around so fast her back hit the workbench. In one brutal motion he dropped to his knees, buried his face between her thighs, and sank his teeth into the sheer fabric right over her cock. The nylon tore with a loud ripping sound. Cool air hit her heated flesh as he yanked the ruined gusset wider with both hands.

“Fuck, look at that pretty dick,” he growled, voice gravel-rough.

Then his mouth was on her.

Jax swallowed Sissy’s cock to the root in one wet glide, throat opening like he’d been starving for it. Sissy’s head fell back with a broken moan, fingers tangling in his short hair. He sucked hard, tongue flattening along the underside, cheeks hollowing as he bobbed with filthy, sloppy sounds. One big hand cupped her smooth balls, rolling them, tugging gently while he throat-fucked himself on her shaft.

“God, your mouth—sucking me so fucking good,” Sissy gasped, hips twitching.

Jax pulled off with a gasp, strings of spit connecting his lips to her glistening cock. “Been staring at that bulge since you bent over. Knew you were packing. Knew I’d be on my knees for it.”

He dove back down, sucking harder, faster, one thick finger sliding back behind her balls to circle her tight hole. Sissy’s legs shook in the torn stockings. When he pushed that finger inside her without warning, she cried out and thrust deeper into his throat.

Jax stood up suddenly, towering over her. He spun Sissy around again and shoved her chest down onto the cold metal workbench, ass up, legs spread. The torn crotch of her stockings framed her smooth pink hole perfectly. He hawked a thick glob of spit onto his palm, yanked his fat cock out of his jeans—nine inches of veined, leaking meat—and slathered it until it shone.

“No rubber. Want to feel this tight girl-hole raw,” he snarled.

Sissy pushed her ass back eagerly. “Then fucking take it, mechanic. Wreck me.”

Jax lined up and drove in.

The first thrust buried half his cock in one savage stroke. Sissy’s mouth fell open in a silent scream of pleasure. He gripped the garter straps like reins, yanking her back onto the rest of his dick until his heavy balls slapped her own. Then he started pounding.

Deep. Brutal. Relentless.

The garage filled with the wet slap of flesh, the creak of the workbench, and Sissy’s shameless moans. Jax fucked like a man possessed, hips slamming forward so hard her heels lifted off the floor. He alternated between yanking the garter straps to make her arch and cracking his wide palm across her jiggling ass, leaving red handprints that glowed against pale skin.

“Stroke that cock while I ruin your hole,” he ordered.

Sissy obeyed instantly, reaching back to jerk her own throbbing dick in time with his thrusts. The torn nylon around her cock and balls rasped against her fingers with every stroke.

Jax’s pace turned feral. He hooked two fingers into the ripped stockings and tore them wider, exposing more of her ass so he could watch his thick cock disappear inside her clenching ring again and again.

“Gonna flood this greedy fucking ass,” he grunted.

Sissy was close, whimpering, jerking herself frantically. “Cum in me first—please—then paint me.”

But Jax had other plans.

He suddenly pulled out, cock glistening with her ass juice. He flipped her onto her back on the workbench, ripped the stockings down to her ankles in one violent yank, and fisted his cock. The first rope of cum lashed across her torn nylon, thick and white. The second and third splattered over her still-hard cock and smooth balls, dripping down her shaft in heavy, creamy strands. He kept stroking, milking out every drop until her cock, thighs, and ruined stockings were glazed and dripping with his load.

Sissy moaned like a whore and came seconds later, shooting her own cum in long arcs that mixed with his across her blouse and belly.

Jax wasn’t done.

He peeled the shredded stockings completely off her legs, slow and deliberate, then lowered his mouth to her cum-smeared cock. He licked a broad stripe up the underside, tasting both their loads, before kissing the sticky mess coating her inner thighs.

When he finally stood, chest heaving, he looked down at the wrecked, panting mess he’d made of her.

“Car’s on the house, slut,” he said, voice low and filthy. “Just make sure you bring that tight cock and a fresh pair of stockings next week so I can rip them open and paint them again.”