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In the Back Seat

What a way to get a sale

I sell cars.

 

I sell cars, and I’m damned good at it.

 

But I’m not your average cigarette smoking, rum-and-coke drinking slob selling clapped out jalopies from a downtown lot. I am the Owner, General Manager, and THE Georgina Ashcroft of “Ashcroft Investments”, the largest Bentley and Lotus dealership on the east coast. We pride ourselves in offering superb service and always looking as good as the cars we sell. I have a fantastic sales staff of dedicated people who I adore and admire, and who are all willing to go the extra mile for me. It’s not easy being a successful woman in the motor industry, and my staff are the mainstay of my success.

 

I know how important it is to make a good first impression on people, and I take my appearance very seriously. I’m certainly not a super model, but I keep pretty much in shape and I don’t smoke. I have long, slightly curly dark auburn hair that I almost always wear loose because I love the way it feels as I walk and it delicately brushes on the small of my back.

 

I’m not a vane person, but I know I have nice calves, so I always wear skirts and shoes that accentuate my calves. I wear conservative, yet smart outfits, usually elegantly tailored mid calf-length skirts, smart Italian sling back shoes, very sheer stockings and a business-like camisole or shirt that shows just enough cleavage to be tantalizing without being trashy.

 

I love my hands too, because I have long, elegant fingers. I always make sure that my nails are manicured and neat. I’ve seen the way men react when I shake hands with them the first time. A handshake is a much more personal act than most people realize. I try to give a man a firm, but gentle handshake, with adequate pressure for him to feel the texture and softness of my hand, and then I linger just long enough to signal that I like the man, but not too long, which would be flirting.

 

I never flirt with my customers. It’s just tacky and crass. When a man comes in looking to buy a million dollar Bentley, he doesn’t want some low-class skank flirting with him. He wants to feel respected, made to feel important, treated with professionalism, and never be made to feel that he’s not absolutely serious about the car. Of course, the mildest bit of flattery goes a long way too, but NEVER flirting.

 

That’s what brings me to this short story.

 

It was a slow Wednesday morning and there were no prospective clients around. Most of the staff were out with clients or delivering cars, and I was the only sales staffer available. I was walking past a row of gorgeous, sleek Bentleys towards the Lotus area of the showroom when a man walked in.

 

He was not a handsome man, certainly no Brad Pitt, but not ugly either. He had a confident, but not conceited aura about him that was instantly attractive. He was in his mid 40’s I guessed, and he wore khaki chinos, a comfortable blue cotton shirt, loosely buttoned, with he sleeves slightly rolled up his forearms. Did I mention that I have a weakness for beautiful forearms? He walked straight up to me and put his hand out to shake mine. “Morning,” he said, “I’m Mark”.

 

As I reached out to shake his hand I saw his forearms. They were absolutely gorgeous. He was stocky and muscular, and his forearms were well defined, slightly tanned, with a fine covering of chocolate brown hair. The muscles rippled sensually as I took his hand and the sinews and veins snaked seductively as he increased the pressure of the handshake. He lingered just long enough for me to start to feel awkward, all the time looking me squarely in the eye. I noticed he had lovely long eyelashes and gentle, passionate eyes. Then, just as I was about to pull away, he let go of my hand.

 

I was starting to feel strange. I was asking myself questions about him. “What does he do for a living”, “where does he live”, “which Bentley would suit him best”, “I wonder what he looks like naked”….

 

I don’t know what made that thought sneak into my mind, but I must have giggled or blushed because he looked quizzically at me. I covered up perfectly and started to ask him about his preferences and which models he might be interested in. He was very interested in the Continental GTC which is a sleek, powerful and very sensuous convertible. I have always thought that the Continental was far and away the sexiest Bentley. Bentleys are the epitome of British design style, and their cars exude the essence of polo, Wimbledon, the Royal Ascot, and Cowes Weeks. The Continental is still definitely British, but the styling is less conservative and more elegantly sexy. If the conventional Bentley is Winston Churchill, Prince Phillip and Laurence Olivier, the Continental GTC is Prince William, Hugh Grant and Pierce Brosnan.

 

“An excellent choice” I said to him with absolute sincerity, “you’d look good in a Continental”. I blushed slightly again as I had a mental image of his forearms holding the steering wheel, glistening in the sun as he drove. “Would you like to take her out for a test?” I asked. Men never say no to a test drive, so we eased the Bentley out of the showroom and towards the highway.

 

Mark was clearly loving the sensation of driving the car. The heavy rumbling of the engine accentuated his broadening smile as we drove along the main road, the wind in our hair, and the sunshine on our shoulders. I showed him how to use the manual gear change on the automatic gear stick, and for the briefest of moments, his hand brushed mine, sending an unexpected spark of electricity through my body. I looked at him approvingly and said, “You DO look good in this car”. He smiled, and looked at me, then he leaned toward me and gently removed a small leaf that had settled on my shoulder. It was such a tender gesture that I found myself automatically leaning my cheek towards his hand. He brushed my cheek gently, ran his hand through his wavy brown hair, and floored the accelerator.

 

I knew at that moment that I had to have him. Lust welled up in my breast like a flood, and I knew my pussy was starting to get wetter and wetter just thinking about him. I shifted my legs, and I felt the smooth satin of my panties rub against my pussy. I wanted to plunge my hands down there, and caress myself to blissful oblivion. As I shifted, I carefully, and without being obvious, raised my skirt slightly so that Mark couldn’t help but see my exposed knee and calf. I noticed a slight bulging in his pants, and my breathing slowed suddenly. It was now or never. Fuck the rules.

 

I slid across the leather seat towards him, and reached out to touch his knee. I touched it gently, and started to caress him with my finger, slowly around the knee and then along his inner thigh. He wriggled and very purposefully opened his knees wider apart. I reached for his zip, and slowly played with his swelling cock through the rough cotton oh his pants, then I undid his belt and zip, and reached into his pants. He wasn’t wearing underpants, and his cock felt warm and hard. I gently massaged the tip with his pre-cum.

 

He wriggled in his seat again, and reached down and gently stroked the hand that was massaging his cock. I leaned over and took his cock in my mouth. He groaned slightly as I enveloped it and licked the tip. With my right hand I held the shaft while my left hand I gently caressed his scrotum and balls, all the while licking and sucking him.

 

“I have to pull over” he gasped, and pulled the car into he shade of a grove of trees down a short side road.

 

We looked at each other, and both just knew that we had to get into the back seat. We tumbled over the front seats into the luxurious, broad leather back seat. He held my face and kissed me, and stroked my hair. His hands moved down around my body and he stroked my breasts under my shirt. We rolled about, kissing, fondling, and undressing. I can’t remember if I took my skirt off, or if he did, but I found him slowly caressing my inner thigh with his tongue. He fondled my pussy through my panties and I knew they were dripping wet. Then he pulled the panties to one side and licked and caressed me with his tongue.

 

I could feel the leather under my arse becoming slippery from my juices and his saliva, and the warm slipperiness felt so gorgeous that I delighted in squirming around on the seat. Mark could sense my delight, and he moved along with my gyrations, licking my clitoris delicately.

 

Then he put is muscular arms under my bum and lifted my pussy upwards. This gave him full access to my pussy, and his mouth and tongue enveloped it like a warm velvet glove. He gently caressed my inner thighs and my nipples with his slippery hand. The smell of my juices all over me drove me wild and I started to climax.

 

As I was cumming, I let out a small involuntary whimper and my body arched up to meet his tongue in thrusting movements. He intensified the pressure on my clitoris, and slipped a moistened finger into my anus. The sensation was electric and I gasped as I came hard, my toes curling and my hands forcing his head harder into my pussy.

 

Delicately and expertly, he tapered off playing with my pussy with his tongue, and he now started to kiss me all over my body. He danced his tongue down my inner thigh, and around my navel, savouring my body with obvious delight. With his still slippery hands he caressed my breasts and the small of my back.

 

He then moved upwards against my body and started to kiss my neck and shoulders. Each lingering, deep kiss sent shivers through my body, and the smell of his body and my body melded into an intoxicating liquor that we both drank in thirstily. He kissed my mouth, and our tongues met. I could taste my own pussy, and the sweet nectar tasted so good.

 

The next thing I knew, he'd slipped under me, and I was straddling him. His cock was erect and very hard and he squirmed with pleasure as I touched it and gently massaged the head and shaft with my fingers. I wanted to get that cock inside of me as soon as I could, but he held off for a short while, rubbing the tip of his cock against the lips of my pussy and on my moist clitoris.

 

Just when I felt that I couldn't stand it anymore, he pushed his cock into me and I felt the wonderful full feeling of his cock thrusting up inside of me. I moved my hips and he groaned in pleasure, so I started thrusting against him, feeling his cock move inside me. I could feel him tensing as I thrust, and I knew he was close to cumming.

 

“I want to see you cum” I said as I thrust harder and squeezed my pussy muscles around his throbbing cock. He groaned with pleasure and nodded. He grabbed my bum and thrust deep inside me and moaned softly as he said “I'm going to cum”.

 

Without disturbing the timing of the thrusting, I moved away from him and took his cock in my hand, stroking it tightly like I did with my pussy. Then I slipped down and put it in my mouth and moved my lips up and down around the head of his cock until I felt the start of his spasmodic jerking of his climax. I took him in my hand and brought him to orgasm as his body jerked and thrust towards me. He groaned loudly and his cum exploded into my hand in several jets of warm, slippery fluid. I continued to rub his cock as he enjoyed the sensation, and straddled him again, rubbing my clitoris with the warm slippery cum. He slipped down under me and took my pussy into his mouth again and brought me to a sudden and very intense orgasm as I sat on his face and wriggled and squirmed in ecstasy.

 

As we basked in the afterglow of our encounter, we tenderly touched and kissed.

 

“I'll take the car he said” with a smile.

 

 

 

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