It was a Monday, and Cali was driving in heavy traffic. She would usually never go out driving around midday, but she had checked the fridge and found nothing to eat, so she had no choice but to go shopping. She felt stressed, and had been for months. The cost of living crisis was hitting them hard, and on top of that, it had been a shit of a year. She had sixty-eight dollars in her purse, all the money she could find in the house, and those few dollars had to last until Friday. On top of everything else, she was upset at her husband, Nash, who'd used the last of the milk, bread and eggs that morning and hadn't told her. 

Cali and Nash had gotten together in high school. He was six feet tall and handsome, and she was an attractive blonde who garnered a lot of attention from the opposite sex. They had been voted most likely to succeed in their final year. What a joke, she thought. Success had avoided them of late. 

When they married, Nash had landed a so-called good job in a bank, but the pay barely covered their mortgage, and they had nearly lost their house in LA's Eaton fires. That would have been the final straw, as they were not fully insured and could not afford any contents insurance. On top of everything else, at the time of the LA fires, Cali had lost her job at a technology outlet, where she'd been selling phones. She had an accounting degree but had not managed to find another job.

Cali, full name Calista, but only her mother called her that, was now working from home doing telemarketing. Not a job she was overenthusiastic about, and the income from that was far from regular. Hence, the empty cupboards.

Concentrating more on her problems than the road ahead, Cali suddenly had to swerve into the oncoming lane to avoid some stupid bastard that pulled out in front of her. 

"You fucking asshole. Stupid fucking cunt," Cali yelled as she gunned the car back in behind him.

Heart racing and badly shaken, she wondered where all the foul language had come from. She never used words like that. She pulled into the mall where she used to work. There were shops closer to home, but she had always shopped at this supermarket and knew where to find bargains that would make her dollars stretch further. She'd never handed in her staff door card, so she pulled around the back of the mall to look for a parking spot near the staff entrance.

Seeing a free park close to the door, she swung their old Dodge banger in, just as a big, shiny, black SUV started to back out. Flustered, she adjusted too late and clipped the SUV on the driver's door.

"Son of a bitch, you stupid fucking cunt," she yelled. Then stepped out of her car to give the other driver both barrels.

But Cali stopped dead when she saw the guy exiting the SUV. He was a large, intimidating-looking Black man. He had to be six-five and built like a tank. He had loosened the neck of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, revealing tattoos on his arms and chest. His face looked like it had been in plenty of fights, and he looked angry. She immediately thought "drug dealer," and, knowing she was in trouble, frustration caused her to burst into tears.

The huge guy leaned across her bonnet and gripped her hand. Telling her to stop crying. He told her to get back in her car, then opened her passenger door, moved the seat back and climbed in. The car lurched as he squeezed in. Cali worried about the springs of her vehicle and noted that even with the seat fully back, his knees were almost touching the dashboard.

As she settled in her seat, she caught him looking at her legs. And she modestly pulled her dress down to cover them.

The brute opened the glove box and pulled out the car's papers. "Don't get so upset; we will just swap our insurance providers and we can go on our merry way," he growled.

"I don't think we have kept up the payments on the insurance. I have sixty-eight dollars in my purse. That is all I have."

"Geez, girl. The panel guy won't lift his hammer for that. The last scrape I had cost two grand, and it wasn't much bigger than that," he said, pointing out the window at his scratched door.

Then, using his phone, he took a photo of the papers he was holding and turned to her. "I see the car is registered to Nash and Calista Wilson. Is that correct? I'm Jarel, by the way."

“Yes, I’m Calista. Look, my husband and I are struggling at present. Like everyone else, I suppose, this cost-of-living crisis is killing us. Let's come to some private arrangement where I pay you off over the coming months. I've been telemarketing for the last three months and have had the odd good month where I can put some extra aside.

"How come you have a staff card? Do you know someone who works in the mall?"

"I used to work in the phone shop, to the left of the staff entry," Cali sighed.

"Ah, I know it. I thought I had seen you before. I own the tobacconist three doors further along. And I have another five shops around LA. I'm opening another one in The Grove next month."

"You sell drugs there!" exclaimed Cali. And as Jarel shook his head, she countered. "My friend bought some party pills from you."

"We sell nothing illegal in the shop. But if you want something a little harder, that can be arranged."

"No! I don't touch drugs," she gasped. “We couldn't afford them if we wanted to."

"What sort of arrangement were you thinking of?" said Jarel, as he looked knowingly at her trim figure.

Cali flinched. "I'm not sleeping with you, if that's what you are after. I'm a married woman."

"Well, a blowjob then. I haven't had any relief today. A pretty little thing like you, mouth wrapped around  my shaft, could encourage me to forget about the car."

"Forget it. I'm not doing that either. I'm not that sort of woman."

Jarel reached into his pocket, took a hundred-dollar note from a roll of cash.

"What about this to get you through to Friday?" he said, pressing the note into her hand.

Cali hesitated. Weighing up her options. She realised she was in the shit. They really could not afford another bill on top of the ones already waiting to be paid. Things were not great at home, but she had always promised herself she'd never be unfaithful. Still, a blowjob would not be the end of the world if it got her out of this horrible mess. She’d had to give a couple at university, and they hadn’t killed her.

Taking her hesitation as approval, Jarel took her phone from the phone holder on the window and inserted his in its place. Then, when he angled it around to face his lap, she snapped, "You're not filming me."

"No, I'm not. I've turned it to mute and have put it there so I can see it, as I have many important calls coming in. Then, without waiting for Cali's consent, he lifted his hips, unzipped, and pushed his pants down to his knees. Cali gasped and shook her head when she caught sight of his cock. It was like a large bockwurst sausage. It looked bigger than her husband's fully erect member, and the bloody thing was still lying limply along his leg.

Jarel reached over and drew Cali's head to his lap. As he forced her head down, she cried out again that she couldn't. But realising she had no other options, she opened up and took the offered black mamba into her mouth. She immediately gagged; it was still soft, but the damn thing hit the back of her throat anyway.

Jarel reached under her and grabbed one of her breasts. She sat up, enraged that he would touch her. "Don't you dare touch me. I'm not doing this."

But Jarel gave her an angry look that left her in no doubt she was going to have to.

"Look, girl, it might take an hour to get me off. But if you let me see your tits. This could be over in ten minutes. So undo that blouse and get them out."

He sat there unmoved until she relented and undid the front of her blouse. Only then did he move and push her bra up to release her breasts. He commented on how perfect they were, then drew her head back into his lap.

Cali had to open her mouth wider this time, as his prick had swelled. And as she began to blow him, she felt it hardening with every bob of her head. The slight hint of arousal she felt pissed her off. 'How could she get aroused, sucking off this horrible man?' she thought. But she was.

Jarel reached under her and worked both nipples. They betrayed her and immediately hardened. She also found herself getting wet, and she squirmed around trying to get into a better position, as she was twisted at an awkward angle, trying to reach over to him. He made some comment about her being a damn good cocksucker and told her she was doing well.

She sat up, "Don't you dare come in my mouth."

He shook his head, indicating that he wouldn't. But then took in her squirming motions on the seat, and asked, "Are you getting wet, you little slut?"

"I'm not," she squealed. Not sounding at all convincing.

"Take your panties off and hand them to me. I want a souvenir for my hundred bucks."

Cali hesitated, but the look he gave her told her she dared not resist. So she lifted, slid them off, and reluctantly handed them to him.

"You sexy little slut. They're wet as a fucking swamp. Open your legs, I want to see your cunt."

Cali, let him prise her legs apart. She felt a twinge of warmth when he said he'd never seen such a beautiful pussy and loved them hairy. Then the bastard ran a finger along her slit, gathered up some of her slick juices, transferred them to his nob, then pushed her head back into his lap. 

Now she struggled to get her mouth around it. His prick was rock hard and had grown to the size of a cucumber. She had a fleeting image of her and her best friend attempting to get a cucumber into their pussies when they were in their teens. And this bloody thing was just as large, maybe larger. She could only get about four inches into her mouth before she started gagging.

She pulled away, partly in exasperation and partly in disgust that his cock was leaking pre-cum.

"Tell me you want to suck my big black cock," he ordered.

Cali mumbled back what he had said.

"Say it as if you mean it, bitch. Or our deal is off, and you can give me back my hundred bucks."

Cali repeated his words. This time louder and more clearly.

"Look me in the eyes and mean it," he ordered. "What do you want, slut?"

"I want to suck your ugly, fat cock, you Black bastard," she yelled.

"Say that again, but more nicely, and I might let you."

Cali looked him in the eyes and said, "I'd like to suck your big black cock," and was surprised to find that she meant it. And when Jarel pulled her head down this time, she opened her mouth wide and worked as much of him in as she could. She began sucking and working her tongue around his knob with real intent this time. Trying to fool herself that she did not want to, and was only doing it to get the whole thing over with quickly, and get away before some staff came outside for a cigarette break.

But noting she had capitulated, Jarel reached under Cali and squeezed her tits before lightly pinching her nipples. She caught her breath and whimpered, "Nnn-o," but knew he had her when her hips began moving around, searching out the edge of the seat for some friction. Jarel saw this and reached further down to run a finger along her slit. Then ordered her to lift and kneel on the seat so he could get better access.

He looked outside and saw there was no one around and had a wicked thought. The position she was now in had her butt almost pressed against her driver's side window. So he flicked her skirt up onto her back, baring her naked ass to anyone who walked down the footpath.

Realising her predicament, Cali struggled to dip her ass out of sight, but cramped up as she was, and with Jarel holding her head on his cock, she had no room to move, and even by wriggling her knees closer to him, could not lower her ass completely out of sight.

Sliding his free hand back under her, he slid a finger deep into her sodden pussy and growled in her ear, “Don’t worry about the guy outside; he’s grinning like a Cheshire Cat. Let's get this over with before you have another cock to service."

More turned on than she had been for years, Cali wanted to push a hand back and touch herself. Her pussy was tingling and badly needed attention. So when Jarel reached under her again and slid two fingers back, she unashamedly humped her hips onto his thrusting fingers. She tried to twist around to see who was watching. But Jarel held her tight.

Working his fingers in and twisting his hand so his thumb was pressing against her clit, Jarel went to town. This time, there was no hiding her need. Cali shifted a knee, spreading herself wider and worked herself onto the knuckle of his thumb. She was stretched wide, as each of Jarel's fingers was nearly as big as her husband's erect member. Still, she felt a twinge of embarrassment at the frenzied whimper she let slip out around Jarel's knob. This blowjob was meant to be an imposition, but instead, she was fast becoming more impatient for a climax than this bastard was.

She managed to lift her head high enough to moan for him to press harder. And then she really began to rub her clit against his knuckle. The orgasm that hit was explosive. Intense pleasure rocketed through her body in waves. She felt his shaft throb, and, realising he was going to come, she tried to pull back. But Jarel held her tight, and his thick, hot seed spurted into the back of her throat. She had no option but to swallow or choke.

When Jarel finally let her head go. Cali shrieked at him that he was a bastard. Then snapped her head around to see the guy that was watching. But the pavement was empty. She couldn't see a soul anywhere.

Jarel laughed. "There was no one there; I just indicated there might be to heighten your arousal. And it worked. That thought of someone watching got you off big time."

Cali didn't want to admit that it had, even though she knew she had been turned on at the thought of someone watching.

"You're still a bastard; you promised not to come in my mouth. I've never let my husband do that."

"But it was great. I've had many women tell me my jism is the best tasting they've had."

Cali glowered at him. He hadn't tasted anywhere near as bad as what she'd expected. But she was never going to admit to that.

She pulled her skirt down and tidied herself while watching Jarel tuck his fast-shrinking snake back into his pants. He grabbed his phone, then struggled to get his bulky frame out of the door. Cali snatched her phone from where it had fallen, tucked the hundred-note he had given her into her purse and climbed out also.

Jarel had come around her side to help her out. And when he pulled her to her feet, she took in his size again, as even in her healed shoes, her head was below his shoulders. And to heighten her embarrassment, a cool gust of air reminded her she wasn't wearing any panties.

"Give my panties back," she demanded.

He gave another wicked laugh. "I told you they're mine now. Here, buy yourself another pair," and he tossed her another hundred-dollar note.

Cali knew at that moment that she hadn't been wrong. He was definitely into illicit stuff, probably drugs, as he had no concerns about peeling money from his roll and throwing it about. She was alarmed at accepting such money. But she and Nash were far too broke for her to turn it down.

With not a care in the world, Jarel turned to his car. She held her phone up and took a photo of his back but then got a good shot of him as he turned to lower himself behind the wheel. As he pulled out of the park, she took another series of photos, capturing the number plate and the scrape on the door. Knowing they were of little use, but needing to do something to alleviate her discomfort.

She realised she was starving, and with her newfound wealth, she entered the mall and found Mexican fast food, where she ordered black bean burritos. Then, she found a table to wait for her food to be delivered. As Cali sat, she was reminded of her indiscretion as her ass touched down on the cold wooden chair.

While she waited for her food, Cali pulled out her phone to take a look at Jarel's photo. He was a frightening-looking guy, although she could see that certain women would probably find him appealing. Whereas, she would like to print a copy of the photo and stick pins in it.

Then something caught her eye in the successive photos. His car, as he turned out, had its driver's side wheel well over the yellow line...