Garage Gangbang - A Rough Reluctant Gangbang Sex Story

GARAGE GANGBANG

A Rough Reluctant Gangbang
Sex Story

by

Mercy Faulk

About This Book:

After months of unemployment, Ginny's
brand-new dream job is threatened unless her car passes a smog
test. The trouble is she doesn't have the money to pay for it. Her
sexy mechanic suggests a trade: A passing grade in exchange for
becoming his sex slave for a night. What Ginny doesn't know is that
the hunky grease monkey has more planned for her than she
suspects.

WATCH OUT! This 10,000-word story depicts
erotic situations, oral sex, anal sex, creampies, bondage, and a
rough and reluctant four-on one gangbang that will make you want to
rush out for a tune-up!

As I lay shivering in a puddle of bodily fluids on a filthy
concrete floor, cum leaking from every orifice and four men
standing over me, I wondered at how a simple thing like getting a
smog test could take such an unexpected and twisted
turn.

~ * ~ * ~

“
We’re so pleased you’ll be joining our team, Ms.
Meyers.” Mr. Jaimeson stood and came around his desk to shake my
hand. I flushed and let out a sigh of relief, which made me blush
even harder. The hand I’d put out to return his handshake flew to
my mouth in embarrassment.

He smiled good-naturedly.
“Don’t worry about it, Ginny. It’s a tough job market right now, so
I get it. We’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning,
right?”

“
Definitely!” I’d been out
of work for eight months, but somehow I’d managed to fool this
otherwise brilliant businessman into thinking I would make a good
assistant.

I turned to walk out of his
office but his next words stopped me in my tracks. “Oh, and don’t
forget to bring in your driver’s license, insurance and current
registration for your car. Human Resources will want copies for
their records.”

Glancing back over my
shoulder, I feigned curiosity rather than the panic that was
swelling inside my chest. “Sure. What do they need it
for?”

“
Well, since you’ll be
driving nearly every day for the job, they need it in case there’s
an accident or something. It’s pretty standard, really, at least
for a job that requires you to have a car.”

My heart started thudding.
The relief I’d felt just seconds before was swept away by a tidal
wave of fear. I stretched my lips into what I hoped looked like a
smile, nodded and choked out, “Okay.”

I’m surprised my wobbly
legs carried me to my car. Shaking fingers jimmied the key into the
lock and I barely got the door closed before tears started
streaming down my cheeks. I was going to lose this job before it
even started!

The latch on my glove box
had been sticking for a while, but a swift pound on the dashboard
popped it open. The contents spilled out onto the door, with a few
packets of mustard and a stray spork falling to the floor. I
rummaged around till I found the registration, which informed me
that, as I suspected, it had expired a week ago and, by the way, it
was time to get smogged.

“
Shit,” I whispered to the
dusty interior of my ancient ride. I’d owned the piece of shit
since high school, and it was a piece of shit back then. Three
years more years of abuse hadn’t magically improved it. My friends
called it ‘Banger’, and some of them refused to step foot inside,
claiming they might catch fleas.

It wasn’t
that
bad, but I couldn’t
afford anything better, especially after I’d lost my last
receptionist job when the company closed down. I’d been living on
my meager savings and credit cards, scraping just enough together
to keep a roof over my head, for the last several months. This
month’s rent was late, and I wasn’t sure where I’d find the money
for it, so paying $150 for a smog test and renewal wasn’t anywhere
near the top of my long list of bills that needed paying. My
insurance was current — barely — but now, according to the payment
schedule on the back of the form, a $75 late fee would be tacked
onto the final bill.

It was just my luck. I’d
just been hired for a great new job with a good salary, but it
required a car and mine wasn’t legal. When I read the job listing,
I’d assumed they wanted you to have a car so you could make it to
work every day. During the interview, Mr. Jaimeson had mentioned a
few errands I’d need to run, but he made it sound like they were
few and far between. I figured there would be a two-week training
period, and by then I’d get my first check and I could go get the
car smogged and registered.

I tipped my wrist to check
the time: 4:50. “Double shit!” Where would I find a testing
facility that would take me so late in the day? The bigger question
was, how would I pay for it? I had about $100 in my checking
account and $5 in my savings — just enough to keep it active in
case I found some work. Hopefully one of my credit cards — or more
likely all of them combined — would have enough room to eke it
out.

I jammed the key into the
ignition and said a little prayer to the car gods before turning
it. Banger’s engine grumbled a bit, giving me a mini-heart attack,
but she finally sputtered to life. Then I was roaring out of the
parking structure on a mission to find a smog shop.

~ * ~ * ~

As I drove down the busy thoroughfare, all the auto shops I
passed were already either closed or a guy in coveralls was pulling
down the roll-up doors to the testing bays. I was in full-panic
mode by then. Driving with expired registration didn’t worry me as
much as walking into my new job tomorrow without up-to-date
paperwork. There was probably a huge line of people more qualified
than me ready to snap up the gig if it was offered. I had no
illusions I was indispensable.

My tears had dried up as I
frantically searched for a shop that would take me but they
threatened to spill over again as I closed in on the end of the
businesses along this stretch of road. It was useless. I’d never
find an open shop now that it was after five.

A sob had just wracked my
body when, through a shimmery veil of tears, I spotted a small
garage whose doors were still open. My breath hitched and I cut
across two lanes of rush-hour traffic to make the center turning
lane, horns blaring in my wake.

Minutes seemed to tick by
as a herd of cars packed the road, preventing me from turning left
into the parking lot. “Please don’t close, please don’t close,” I
breathed as I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, my heart
racing. Finally someone took mercy and stopped so I’d have room to
turn. Cars in the other lanes followed suit and I pulled into the
lot.

I nosed Banger into the
garage bay as a seriously sexy guy in blue coveralls was reaching
up to pull down the door. He glared at me and shook his head,
mouthing the word “closed.”

I don’t want to sound
braggy, but I’m pretty cute. Long dark hair, small but perky
breasts, and a banging bod. I swear, I don’t play on my looks very
often, but I was desperate. I literally batted my eyelashes at him,
clutched my hands to my chest in a pleading gesture — which,
incidentally, pushed my tits together nicely — and gave him my
prettiest pout. “Pleeease,” I whispered out loud, knowing he could
only read my lips.

He stared at me for a long
moment, and then one corner of his mouth twitched, almost as if he
was trying to suppress a smile. He crossed his thick arms and
leaned back against the doorframe to appraise me. This gave me time
to check him out as well. He wasn’t just sexy; he was gorgeous. He
had shaggy blond hair cropped short, but not shaved. He was tall
but not towering and he filled out his coveralls nicely. I dipped
my head and pulled my sunglasses down a bit to get a better look.
Yes, I liked what I saw. He looked like a jock mixed with an
underwear model. “Mmm, come to mommy,” I mumbled.

I don’t know if he could
tell what I said but a smile lit his face and he waved me inside.
“Thank God!” I pulled Banger forward, set the hand brake and turned
off the engine. My door opened and a grimy hand was offered to help
me out of the car. I hesitated, not wanting to get my fingers
dirty, but decided it might seem bitchy if I didn’t take it. Pretty
ironic considering just how deeply inside me his long, warm fingers
would soon be buried.

They wrapped around mine
and an intense heat swept over me, causing my nipples to pucker.
Slack-jawed, I met his gaze. His eyes were like cocoa, warm and
soft. I was lost in them. I only remembered to stand when he pulled
my hand up. But instead of stepping back to give me space, he
stayed where he was so our bodies were nearly touching. The
electricity that zapped between us was so strong that I could
almost hear it. My eyes were at the level of the faded, frayed name
patch on his coveralls: Jake.

I took a deep breath to
clear my head but what I got instead was the overpowering scent of
oil and tires mixed with Jakes own intoxicating musk. Wetness
slicked my pussy lips. “God…” I breathed, as I felt my fingers
entwining with his. Tipping my head back, I gazed up at him. What I
saw there scared me.

Jake had a wild animal
expression on his face, like he was a lion and I was his prey. His
warm, brown eyes turned to the laser sights of a hunter. Even his
upper lip twitched upward, baring his teeth a little. A warning
pinged in my lust-addled brain; this was no ordinary
mechanic.

He must have sensed the
change in my reaction because he dropped my hand and moved toward
the garage door. “So how can I help you tonight, miss?”

His perfectly even voice
was all business. Had I been imagining his animalistic look, the
intense attraction? I figured I must have been transferring my
lustful thoughts onto him. He probably had a thousand girlfriends
at his beck and call, and the last thing he needed was another
complication. What a relief! Or was it? An ember of disappointment
glowed deep inside me. It’s nice to have someone be attracted to
you, after all.

“
I-I need a smog test,” I
stammered.

He paused by the door and
looked back toward me, beyond me, to the clock on the back wall.
“Quarter after five.” He was shaking his head slightly, as if he
was about to change his mind.

“
No, please! I really need
this or I’ll lose my job!”

“
No way, really?” He gave
me a doubtful look, as if I was trying to con him or
something.

“
Seriously. I just got
offered a job but it requires a car . . . one that’s current on
its’ paperwork. If I walk into the office tomorrow without that
piece of paper your machine spits out, I might as well head on down
to the unemployment line. Again.”

He tilted his head. “Hit a
rough patch, huh?”

I nodded somberly, hoping
to whip up some pity. “More like the road just dropped out from
under me. Eight months.” I looked up at him from under my lashes.
Poor little ol’ me.

Nodding, he said, “M’kay,
I’ll do it. Just gonna close the door so no one else thinks I’m
working late tonight.” He gave me a wink and turned to the door’s
rope, tugging it down. It clattered down the slides till it banged
shut, the sound making me jump nearly out of my skin.

“
Nervous type?” He cast a
sidelong look my way as he passed by toward a big machine near the
nose of my car. I couldn’t help notice that his eyes raked down my
body before he turned his attention to the machine.

“
Not really, it just
startled me,” I said sassily, more sassily than I felt. Something
about this guy unnerved me. He looked normal, and he was as sexy as
hell, but I wondered if being in here alone with him might not lead
to trouble. As I got a clear view of his broad shoulders, narrow
hips and tight butt, I thought maybe I could use a little trouble.
I hadn’t had ‘trouble’ in far too long.

I leaned one hip against
the driver side door and started chewing on my thumbnail as I
considered what kind of trouble the two of us could get into. Maybe
after the test he would take me out for a drink… and
dessert.

My gaze was lingering on
his sweet ass when he turned and caught me now looking directly at
his crotch, which was tented out from his obvious erection. “Oh!” I
cried and turned away.