"Engine Trouble" You're sitting in a fold-up metal chair in..

"Engine Trouble" You're sitting in a fold-up metal chair in front of the ruby-red tool chests in my garage. I'm elbow-deep under your hood, trying to wrench the retention bolts off your radiator. Just your luck to blow your cooling system during the middle of an early-cummer heat wave. Even in the shade of the garage, you can feel the oppressive humidity, the sweat pooling down the back of your neck. The sound of static-laden country music quietly whispers from a radio in the corner. You hear the clank of metal as I drop the wrench. "Fuck!" Standing up suddenly, I grumble and bend down underneath your vehicle to retrieve the tool. My jeans seem to burst at the seams as my fat ass hauls over and squeezes underneath the bumper. The tool retrieved, I stand up and wipe the sweat off my forehead with a greasy arm. I look over at you with streaks of grey engine filth on my face. I scowl and shake my head. You smile nervously. "I-I really appreciate you giving me a hand on such short notice--you're a great friend, seriously." "Yeah, well," I hunch over the engine block again and stick my arm back in. "You're gonna be out a hundred bucks for parts, maybe more. It's gonna take me the better part of the day to get it all fixed up." "I sure do appreciate it--" I spit on the garage floor. "Yeah, well I'm doing you a favor just getting it done today. You gonna have to compensate me for my time somehow." Silence. Your bank account is empty and payday is a week away. "I've got twenty bucks on me--" "That ain't gonna cut it, man," I look straight at you and wave the wrench around in my right hand. "I spent over an hour getting those stripped mounting bolts out. That alone is worth twenty bucks--" I walk around the front end of the car and stand right in front of you, still waving the wrench. "You better figure out how you gonna pay me for this before I do anything else!" You look up at me and bite your lower lip. The bulge in my crotch is inches from your face. Instinctively your eyes are drawn to it. You look up at me again, taking a big gulp. "Go on now, suck it then." My upper lip flares and I hock back a big spit wad and fire it at the floor in front of you. You kiss the outside of my jeans and undo the button, pulling them down to my knees and revealing a thick fat dick. The testosterone from my musk hits your nostrils in waves, sending shockwaves to your brain and turning you on. I take a step forward, pushing my cock into your face and the back of your head into a tool chest. Pinned against the red metal box, you open your mouth and let me probe your throat with my cock. 'Oomph! Guk-guk-guk!' your face begins making messy noises as my sweaty cock begins to enter and exit at will. I waste no time in taking control of your hole and sending my cock back and forth across your tonsils. "That's it, fucking suck on that--" I grab the sides of the toolbox to steady myself as my huge hips hammer back and forth into your face--banging your head against the toolbox. My cock swells and pulses inside your mouth, spurting wads of my sweet precum down your neck and over your tongue. You moan and savor the moment as you pay your debt to me, one jabbing thrust at a time...