Oil Change

She pulls the shutter doors of the garage down with a great crash, the tools on the small table beside the door shudder as the latch closes. She walks around the side of the car, inspecting it closely. She looks at a few minor scratches and dents, notes a few chips in the paint, and a small crack in the front windshield. Nothing too major so far. She pulls a pen from the messy bun on top of her head, jots down the notes on her clipboard and returns the pen to its hair-nest.

She opens the driver-side door, fumbles for a moment, then finds the hood latch and pulls it. The hood shudders, but doesn't lift. She slams the drivers door closed and walks slowly around the front of the truck, her heavy boots ringing out as they strike against the cool cement of the shop floor. She reaches the front of the hood, slipping a finger between the hood and the grill and feeling around for a moment. She finds the safety latch, she wraps her finger around it and pulls in one smooth movement she lifts the hood of the hatchback's front hood and holds it up, letting the hydraulics in the hood keep it there. The car is jacked up about a foot and a half, which would provide her room to get underneath later, but makes it a little annoying to reach the various levers and buttons.

She looks over the motor, noting some dings and grease, but nothing major broken, then checks the oil. Drawing out the dipstick, drying it carefully, before reinserting it and drawing it out again. It's incredibly low. Typical. Drivers hear some weird noise driving home and bring their cars into the shop without a second thought, having not checked their oil in years.

The only choice here is how much to charge him. He'd brought the car to her shop late and the lights out front of the shop had been dim the last few weeks, so she hadn't gotten a good look at him. She tucks the clipboard under her arm and turns towards the front office.

She opens the door slowly, drawing the clipboard from her under-arm but stopping before she reads the name aloud. He's obviously the only other person here at this time of night.

"Sir, it's-" She pauses for a moment, looking the man up and down as he turns to her. He's handsome, not a muscular man but a sturdy build, gentle brown eyes and hair that rides that line between a light brown and dark blonde. She quickly sees how her night could go different. "I just wanted to get a little more information." She smiles at him, he immediately smiles back, standing from his chair and taking a step towards her. He stretches a bit as he adjusts to standing.

"Sure, yea, what do you need to know?" He slips his hands into his pockets as he readies his mind to recall the three things he knows about cars. Refilling wiper fluid, changing the air filter, and keeping his brake light lubricant topped off. He's pretty sure his dad made at least one of those up.

"First off, where were you at when you heard the noise?" She slides the clipboard from under her arm and holds it at the ready, pulling the pen from her hair again.

"Yea, maybe 5-10 minutes up the road, a real bad rattling- kinda knocking sound?" He reaches a hand up to scratch his scalp, clearly nervous at the incredibly basic question. "Honestly I was excited to see your shop, I thought for sure I was going to have to have it towed or something."

"How much maintenance do you do on the ol' girl?" She jots down notes, but doesn't actually write anything, just scribbling little circles on the page.

"I-uhhh-" He stammers and searches for the words, "Look I'm sorry I'm a computer programmer, I don't know shit about cars. I do very little." He looks down to the floor for a moment, then back up to her. Noticing for the first time her beautiful skin and dark brown hair. He looked her up and down for a moment, taking in how her olive jumpsuit hugged her curves and how the top unzipped just enough to show the top of her tank-top underneath and the little cleavage it showed above it's hem, but still left so much to the imag- he stopped himself. This isn't the time or the place, is it?

"Ok, interesting, do you drive through here often? Boyfriend or girlfriend live around here?" She tenses up, wondering if the question strained credulity too much. She pushes herself to relax, to not make the situation weird if he sniffs her out. "Or mom, family, work maybe?"

He pauses for a moment, hesitating to answer as he searches her body language for her true intentions. He flashes a slight smile, the slowly responds.

"No no." He says quietly his eyes dropping to the ground, then flicking back up to meet hers. She's smiling now, just a little but it's clearly a smile. "No family around here. No girlfriend at all. I was in the area on a date- well it was supposed to be a date. She never showed so-" He held out his hands in an awkward shrug.

"Oh well- that's rough." Her smirk shines through a little more than anticipated. He sees it, picking up that something is off. "Well would you be willing to come on back and give me a hand?" She leans back on the counter of the customer waiting area, her posture loosening somewhat as she does.

"Uh- yea sure is it something bad?" He asks nervously, confused on what the vibe in the room is.

"Well not so bad, more I could just use a hand. Sal would normally be here to help but he's out for his anniversary tonight, so it's just me here. No one else." She lets another smirk slip through as she kicks away from the counter, turning and heading back towards his car. "Leave your coat there, it's warm enough back here you won't need it."

He tosses his jacket on the old plastic chair and follows her through the door into the shop. He can't help but watch her hips sway as she walks, he swears they're swaying far more than they did when she walked into the customer area, but puts it out of his mind.

She routes around the car, leaning against the front grill, a slight but devious smile.

"How about this, you need to learn some about basic maintenance, and I'm bored sitting around here all night." She turns, leaning forward over the exposed engine of the car. He settles against a long metal table to the side of the car, watching her reach into the car's guts and brush some gooey lump of dirt off of a plastic cap. "So you help me fix your car, grab me tools and learn a bit about some of the basics, and I'll get your car running for free. Sound like a deal?" She turns to him as the sentence ends, looking him up and down one more time. He's dressed simply. A loose long-sleeve shirt, simple and clean blue-jeans.

"Yea-uhh yea sounds good." His hand reaches up, gently rubbing at the back of his neck, looking from her, to the large air compressor behind her, then back to her. He can't tell if he's picking up a romantic vibe, or just a bored 24 hour employee."I can think of at least a hundred worse ways to spend my night."

"Alright, well lets get started then!" She turns back to the car, a practically imperceptible hop in her step as she reaches into the car, grabbing a hold of a small plastic cap and giving it a firm turn. "Hold this." She reaches out her hand towards him, a small yellow cap in her hand smudged in years- maybe decades- of engine grease and grime.

He takes a couple steps, closing the distance between them and reaches forward, grabbing the small cap and holding it out in front of himself.

"Nailed it." He said with sarcastic satisfaction. He tried to look over the small cap in his hands, but she was stretching across the engine just beyond, creating a powerful distraction for him. As she stretched, looking over the engine, he watched the material of her jumpsuit pull taught over her ass, outlining it's form. He catches himself, again questioning the vibe he's picking up and immediately flicking his eyes up to the ceiling. "So this is a cap or something?" She pulls back away from the car righting herself and grabbing a rag from the table and wiping her hands off idly.

"You identified a cap!" She says, and incredibly patronizing tone in her voice, "Great job! That's your oil cap, you take that off to refill your oil when it's low." She stops turning to him and extending a hand up towards his head. She gently places a hand on top of his head, which she can just barely reach, and quietly speaks.

"Good boy." Her entire tone changes from that of a slightly annoyed night-shift worker to a slick and sultry register. Her hand lingers a moment on his head, his eyes begin to scan up and down her form, looking for a clue as to what is happening here. Before he can crack the code, she retracts her hand and turns back to the car. "There's still some oil in there, so we'll need to drain that. Something tells me if you've run low enough on oil for it to be an issue, you probably haven't changed your oil in a while."

"I-uh- yea ok." He's a little stunned as she so quickly pivots back to her work, suddenly a true professional again. She grabs a creeper board from under the table in front of the car, placing it on the floor and lying down on it.

"Alright looks like a 14 millimeter wrench is next." She says, her voice professional and somewhat flat. She slides underneath the car a few inches, reaching up and wiping some of the grit and grime off of the bottom of the oil pan. He turns, awkwardly looking across the cluttered shop for the wrench she'd asked for.

"Uhhh- Whe-"

"Red toolbox, wall across from the shutter door." She continues to speak professionally, until suddenly her voice returns to an almost seductive register. "Get me a 14 millimeter wrench."

The change in her voice shocks him into moving, he steps carefully towards the box, reaching it and pulling it open, only to be greeted with dozens of seemingly identical metal rods with an open hand on one side and a closed loop on the other. The only difference between each rod is their ascending order going left to right. Wrenches. He grabs one, reading the faded text on the side "3/8", he replaces the wrench slipping it back into the small plastic holder.

"Are you having trouble reading?" She calls, her voice still silky and growing a somewhat dominant edge. He felt the comment stir something within himself as he was made aware of her expectations.

"No I- the text is faded- it's hard to" He grabs another one, quickly peeking at the side. He doesn't read it closely, but sees a 1 and a 4 and that's close enough for him. He turns on his heels and immediately begins to cross the room back.

He kneels beside her sticking the wrench in his hand under the engine of his car. He feels her hand take the weight and releases his own grip. There's a quiet clang of metal, then a grumble.

"Wrong size." Her voice is still silky, but colder than before she pushes the wrench back into his hands. "Take your shirt off, then find me a 14 millimeter, not a 1/4 inch." Her voice isn't angry, more disappointed. He paused for a moment, processing what she'd said. Did that confirm the vibe he'd picked up? Or was she just being-

"Sorry was I talking to myself or did I tell you to take your shirt off and then turn and take your little ass over to find me the proper wrench?" She slid herself out from under the car, just far enough to look up at him. A devious smile was now spread across her face as she crossed her hands placing them behind her head in an exaggerated I'm watching you pose. Her eyes flicked down to his shirt, then back up to him. He can't help but smile as he reaches down, grabbing the bottom hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his stomach, his chest, and ultimately his head. He drops the shirt down beside him pausing for a moment.

"That's better." She looks him up and down. He's not a body builder or anything, but he clearly keeps active and in-shape. The tuft of curly dark hair on his chest tapers quickly to a trail leading down to his belly and eventually his pants. He turns walking with more confidence this time over to the tool box. He reaches it and replaces the 1/4 inch wrench. She slides back under the car, waiting for him to return with the right size. He grabs one wrench, then another, and another.

"Eight millimeter. Ten millimeter. Twelve Millime- OH." He grabs the 14 mm wrench and holds it up in the light, reading the text over and over making sure that he's got the right wrench. He can feel his member beginning to swell in his pants as he turns back towards the car and begins to cross the short walk. He imagines what might happen if he messes up again, and what might happen if he doesn't. Images of her spanking him, riding his face, tying him up as she sucks his cock. He shakes off the thoughts as he reaches the car. He bends down, sliding his hand and the wrench under the car. She grabs it and a soft clank rings out.

"Good job. Now, I need a new oil filter and 5 quarts of oil. They're over on the shelf by the customer service area door." His eyes instinctively flick to the red shelf beside the door they'd come in. There's a stack of small boxes with blue and white labels on the side.

"Not a problem-" He says, beginning to walk over towards the shelf. She stops him, sliding out from under the car.

"Yes ma'am." She says, quietly and confidently, "That's the right way to pay respect to someone who's helping you and teaching you."

"Yea- right- Yes Ma'am." As he speaks the word, he feels himself shudder, his cock pushing against the soft material of his underwear. She smirks, looking him up and down again before sliding back beneath the car. He crosses the room to the shelf, looking up and down over the shelf. He grabs a filter and the 5 quart container of oil. While he grabs the replacement oil, she pops the small bolt from the oil pan without getting more than a few drops on herself, a skill few care to develop when changing oil. A spurt of oil pours from the car, draining into a wide flat container, only splattering a few errant drops. What should be a black waterfall of oil that last for a few minutes is only active for a few seconds. The car was uncommonly low on oil. He returns to the car, kneeling beside her and placing the container of oil and small box beside her.

"I hope you got the right size." She says, her voice low and seductive as she reaches down and grabs the box, not even looking before she tears the top open. "Well, what do you know you even got the right size filter." She reaches up and grabs the old oil filter, wrapping her fingers around the wide walls of the filter and giving it a twist. It doesn't budge. She adjusts her grip, again twisting at the filter. She applies all her strength and with a metallic POP the filter comes loose. She places the filter in the large pan, which should be full of oil, but is barely a quarter inch deep across the bottom. She inserts the new filter, then turns it into place securing it snugly.

"Alright," She slides out from under the car, placing her boots to either side of the creeper and pushing herself up from the rolling cart. "You did well enough, now we need to refill the oil." She pushes the creeper away from the car. She unzips her jumpsuit down further, exposing more of the white tank-top she's wearing underneath. He watches her closely as the zipper pulls down, starting high enough that it only showed a couple inches of tank-top and the little cleavage it itself allowed. Slowly she pulls it down past her breasts, past her ribs, past her belly button, exposing that her tank-top is actually a crop top, then coming to rest just above the boxer briefs she wore as a combination of underwear and shorts.

She smiles at him, as she sees his eyes slide up and down the freshly revealed space behind her jumpsuit. The gentle folds of her tummy themselves make him want to crawl inside her jumpsuit and make himself at home. He shakes his head, trying to will away his thoughts as she leans against the grill of the car. The side of her jumpsuit against the car rumples and pulls aside, exposing ever so slightly more of the crop top that hid her chest from him.

"Hello? Anyone there?" She snaps her fingers, letting out a giggle as her spell does its magic. "Time to refill the oil, but with a twist."

"Yea- uhh- I mean Yes ma'am." He looks up into her eyes, a devious fire within as she looks down to his pants.

"You're going to refill the oil, without a funnel, and every time you spill, you're going to get a spanking." She reaches up to pull her bun tight, "Obviously, that'll require- those- to come off." She motions to his pants.

"Oh I don't- " He looks her up and down for a moment, weighing up his options. "You know what- Yes. Yes Ma'am." He says with a devious smile crawling across his own face. He reaches down pulling at the belt. He quickly pops it open and pulls the belt pieces apart, immediately moving to the fly of his jeans. He pops the button off and immediately begins to pull down the zipper. As he unzips, he shuffles his feet, pushing each shoe off with the other. She lets out a laugh as he stumbles for a moment, but regains her dominant composure quickly. Her hand idly begins to trace It's way along the zipper of her jumpsuit as his pants fall around his ankles his obviously hard cock springing forth, only held back by his soft underwear. He awkwardly kicks the jeans to the side, then reaches down to pull off his socks. As he rights himself, he reaches for his boxer waistband, but hesitates a moment.

"Are you sure you want me to-" He starts to ask before she cuts him off.

"Now." She smiles and nods, pointing to his boxers and then to the floor. He reaches for the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down and dropping them around his ankles. His cock stands firm, pre-cum dripping from his head as the underwear come to rest against the ground. He steps out of them, kicking them aside as well. His hands instinctively move to cover his genitals, his fingers crossing in front of his member. "Hands behind your back please." She speaks low, but politely. His hands immediately react, coming together behind his back, the adjustment I his posture lifting his cock ever so slightly upward.

She drinks him in, finally have a good view of what he's working with. She likes what she sees. The curly trail of hair on his tummy lead to a well trimmed pubic area. His cock stands proudly, a bead of pre-cum forming on his tip as she looks him over.

"Alright, well lets get working." She says with a smile. He steps forward, almost giddily as he grabs the container of oil. He leans forward a bit over the engine, lifting the jug up and setting it on the radiator of the car. He unscrews the cap, a quiet ripping noise rings out as the ring separates from the cap. The ring pops off falling down through the engine and letting out a soft pit noise as it comes to rest on the cement. Without hesitation her hand comes down against his ass, a soft clap sounding through the garage.

"Just a little taste." She says with a giggle. One of her hand rests on his hip, the other slack at her side. She draws close to him, watching as he slowly tips the jug to the side. The pale liquid blurps out the spout, the first stream slopping into the proper hole for oil. She smiles, watching the anticipation building in him as he tips the jug again, the oil blubs up and out the end of the jug this time getting a consistent pour from the jug into the engine. As he pours, she begins to trace her hand from his shoulder, slowly tracing down his back, finally reaching has ass and carefully tracing her finger back and forth over the gentle slope of his cheeks. Then it happens, an air bubble sucks in, the oil stops pouring for a split second, he moves the jug to keep if flowing, but as he does the oil sloshes forward, sending a pour of oil both into the proper hole, as well as splattering a thin spray of oil splashing against the top of the motor.

She hears the noise, instantly knowing what's happened. She brings back her hand and brings it down across his ass with a mighty CLAP. He jumps, all of his muscles tensing at once causing him to bump the jug and spilling yet more oil onto the engine. Before he can recover from the first slap, she brings her hand down again, another loud CLAP sounding through the garage.