Mr Wilsons Garage Pt 01

It was Saturday afternoon when my Uber rolled up in front of the home of my Dad's best friend, a man I have always called Mr. Wilson. He was in the driveway working on my old Jeep which had decided to crap out on me Thursday night as I drove around town with several girlfriends. A last girls night out before they went off to college; I would be staying in town to go to the local community college and help with my parents restaurant.

I could see Mr. Wilson's long legs but nothing more, as the whole top half of his body seemed to be inside the hood of my 2001 Cherokee. He wasn't a mechanic but should have been. Anytime anything went awry with one of our cars, we took it to his house and it was fixed within a few days for the cost of parts and maybe a case of beer and a home cooked meal.

I thanked the driver and got out of the car. I stood at the edge of the driveway, suddenly feeling awkward, I pulled my black mid-thigh skirt down a bit and glad I still had on my less than provocative white tank top and button up from my shift at the restaurant. I had turned 18 in January of this year, and something about the way Mr. Wilson had been looking at me the past few months made me... uneasy.

"Nicolette, how are you?" I hear his voice and it snaps me out of my thoughts. He wipes his hands on filthy work pants, takes a swig from a Bud Light bottle and looks me up and down. "She's almost ready."

"Hey Mr. Wilson. That's great! Thank you... Um, I'm alright. Just got done for the day, brunch ran really late." I walked up to him as he went back to tinkering, his eyes darting at back and forth between his work and my ample curves.

I stood there, listening to the sounds of the residential neighborhood around us and the clinking under my hood, trying to figure out the best way to tell him I didn't really have the money to pay for the work he had put in.

"I really appreciate all of this Mr. Wilson, like, oh my God, so much." I began. "We are so lucky to have you help us out with car troubles. Particularly when we are strapped for cash... like I am now." He stops and his hazel eyes lock in tight with my green ones. I continue. "It's just that I have this girls trip for Labor Day weekend and all my funds are tied up right now, but I'm sure Dad will take you out for a few beers and a steak dinner.." I trail off, not knowing what else to say.

"Nicolette, I did everything that I could and she's gonna take you a lot more miles." He stands up and lowers the hood, pushing it closed. "I've known you for a long time and the labor, I'll cover it, I always do. But the parts are $500. Even."

I smile nervously, "Like I said Mr. Wilson. I have like, zero dollars and it would mean a lot if you could just help me out and like, not charge me this one time."

He grabs his beer moves closer to me and stands in front of me, although I am 5'10", I felt intimidated by his 6'2" frame. He rubbed his fingers on the shop rag over his shoulder. "I can't let those parts go for free Nicolette. Your Dad know you're expecting this for free? This was my whole Saturday and a lot of money that I spent." He takes a healthy swig then pulls my car keys out of his pocket and dangles them in front of my face. I can smell him, sweaty, a little like car oil and a small hint of cologne. "You want these back little girl?" I quietly nod yes, afraid of the implication of his tone.

"Earn them." He says in a tone that makes me pulsate with fear. He looks around to see if any of his neighbors are out, but at that moment it almost feels like we are the only two people on his block, he grabs my arm and drags me into his garage. He then hits a button on the wall and it begins to close. I am frozen.

Several industrial fans blow, making it cooler than it should be for an August afternoon in South Carolina but they drown out any sound from the outside, and I imagine the inside as well. A worn couch sits on the back wall of the garage, a couple of stools here and there. Tools and large metal tool cabinets line the walls.

"I am going to call my father right now!" I said in my sternest voice. He laughs as he pulls another beer out of the garage fridge and walks over to me.

"No, you aren't." He smiles and his eyes dart to the right of the couch. I look to see what he had looked at and I see the navy book bag that had been in my Jeep. My heart sinks and and my eyes look downward. "Forget that was in there?" He walks over to the couch, sits down and picks it up. "Let's go over everything in here, what do you say?"

I walk towards him. "Please don't Mr. Wilson!" But he opens it up and begins pulling things out, one by one. "Half empty bottle of Jack? Hey, I like a good Jack every now and then." He laughs at his double entendre. "One, no, wait, TWO used bottles of lube? Tsk tsk. And what is this?" His hand goes into the bag and I close my eyes, know what he is going to pull out. "A giant, pink dildo?!"

"I, I'm an adult and I can, um, touch myself if I want!" I tried to protest. But he then pulled out several polaroids. I was filled with regret at thinking a few candid shots on our last girls night was a good idea.

"Well, these pictures look like you and those two little blonde skanks you run around with having a hell of a time." He held the pictures up one by one. The first was a point of view of me headfirst in my friend Shannon's pussy. The next was of me sitting on my friend Ashlyn's face while I stared at the camera and sucked on the pink dildo that sat next to Mr. Wilson. The last was taken by Ashlyn, selfie style, sort of...it was me, as Shannon shoved the pink, crooked dildo into me as Ashlyn licked my nipples. I thought of the videos on all our phones and shuddered to think if those saw the light of day. "Your parents know how much you like pussy?" He got up and stood uncomfortably close and waved the pictures in my face. "I do believe your ass would be thrown out if they knew." He moved closer so that my tits were now pressed into his chest. "But I gotta tell you, I've been spanking it to these since I found them yesterday. You know these are mine now, right?" I cringed at the thought of a man in his mid 50's stroking it to me and my most private moments.

"I'm not gay, it was just fun. It felt good" I mumbled, not looking up at him.

"Yeah, I know how good a woman feels." Another sip of beer. "So, tell me, you just been with other girls or has a man ever been inside you? You ever had your mouth wrapped around a hard dick?"

I didn't answer, appalled by his brashness. He tucked the pictures in his back pocket then grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my face up to look at his. "I asked you a question. Have you ever been with a man?." He stared coldly at me.

"Yes, but only two." I whispered.

"Well, that's only a little disappointing." He let go of my hair. "So, here's what's gonna happen. You owe me $500 and your parents would shit a brick if they knew you tried to get out of it. And they would shit a bigger one if they thought their sweet little Sunday school teaching daughter loved snatch AND wasn't a virgin. So, we are gonna work out a deal."

"A deal?" Where was he going with this?

"Yeah. A deal." He walked away from me and sat on one of the random bar stools. "For every piece of clothing you take off, that's $50 off."

I quickly counted my skirt, underwear, bra, tank and button up. Only 5, which was only $250. "But that's only half!"

"Guess we will figure out something else, huh?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. But I had no real options, or so I felt. My parents were active members in the Catholic church, homophobic as hell and held my room and board over my head constantly. If these pictures ever surfaced, I'd be on the streets in no time.

I looked down as I slowly unbuttoned my shirt. "Come here!" He demanded and I walked towards him. "Closer." And I was within reach.

"Now take off the fucking shirt." His eyes narrow as I shyly look down and begin to unbutton my shirt. I stop at the last button and look at him, eyes stern but I see a bit of excitement at the prospect of seeing me naked. I drop the shirt behind me. I tuck my thumbs into the top of my skirt and I see him take his hand and start to slowly rub at the growing mound in his pants. Intrigued at by his naughty game, I stare him in the eye and remove my skirt. "Now you're at 400. Keep going. Take off that tank top." He commands. "Don't want to spend that trip money do you?"... I slowly pull off my tank top and am left with a white lace and satin bra and a pair of pink lace panties. He looks me up and down, brings the beer to his mouth, takes a swig and nods, and I know what he means.

I reach behind my back and unhook my bra, I take in a deep breath as I release my 38F's from their binding. He smiles and lets out a low guttural grunt as his eyes take in my large ivory breasts and large, pale pink areolas. My nipples harden with anticipation of what may come.

I feel the slightest tingle in my crotch as he surveys my body. I cannot believe the fact that I'm getting excited while being scared out of my mind. I huff at the situation and pull my panties down around my ankles and kick them off. His eyes dart down to my landing strip and he immediately unzips his pants and pulls out an average length but incredibly fat dick, spits in his hand and begins to slowly stroke it. I look away, I can't believe I'm seeing my father's best friend's penis. "Look me in the eye!" He booms. I keep my head down, only turning my eyes up, staring through dark lashes.

He groans slightly as his dick hardens between strokes. "You're halfway there. What else can we do to get you the whole way?"