Executive Oil Change

I'm a real estate broker, and today was three day that I was hopefully going to close the biggest deal of my year, so I wanted to dress to impress. So, I decided to wear my beautiful new Musika Frere suit, in a beautiful light grey silk/cashmere fabric with a faint windowpane. The big peak lapels meant business, and the double-breasted vest was snug and slimming. A crisp white Egyptian cotton shirt with a spread color. Thick blue dotted silk tie, vintage Brioni, with my matching suspenders buttoned up but hidden under my vest. Black Gucci loafers polished like a mirror. My cufflinks were antique platinum with sapphires - they were my grandfather's, from Cartier. My white Calvin's kept my package in place under it all. 

I made sure my platinum-blonde hair was perfect, my new undercut-style looked good with my slightly curly, thick mane. My Clark Kent-style glasses framed my light blue-grey eyes and made me look smarter and older than my 27 years. I adjusted my white pocket square, grabbed my keys and bags and was out the door. 

I got settled into my Mercedes-Benz S-Class, turned it on, and was surprised when the 'check engine' light blinked on. I cursed, looked at my Patek Philippe 5711, and decided that I should have the time to have it looked at. But where could I take it? I was only staying in this shithole of a town for the night, so I wasn't sure where to go. I pulled out my iPhone and asked Siri where the nearest Mercedes dealership was, and I got nothing. So I just asked for a garage, and selected the first with a 4-star rating. Off I went. 

I pulled in front of the garage an hour and a half before I was to meet my client. A pretty redhead greeted me, all smiles. I told her what was going on, filled some paperwork out and handed her my keys. She assured me that my car would be taken care of as quickly as possible. Within ten minutes they had my car in the garage. I decided to walk next door to the McDonald's to grab some coffee, my suit drawing stares in the small-town restaurant. I headed back to the garage and drank the coffee, and of course I had piss about twenty minutes later, and bad. I asked and was directed to an exterior restroom. 

After I had relieved myself, I went to the small sink to wash my hands, trying not to touch anything in the tiny, filthy bathroom. I was actually surprised - the rest of the establishment was pretty nice. I was drying my hands using the air dryer when suddenly, the door swung open, bumped me, and before I knew it, I was sprawled, face-first, on the sticky piss-scented linoleum floor.

'Watch it, asshole' I said as I stood up, brushing the front of my suit off. I had forgotten to lock the door when I came in, and standing there in front of me was the most beautiful mechanic I had ever seen. He was at least three inches taller than my five foot eight, had light brown hair and brilliant green eyes. He had the most magnificently chiseled jaw I'd ever seen. He was the man I had seen working on my Mercedes, just not this close. And he was also so very, very filthy. His navy work uniform was covered in grease, some was on his face and in his hair. His hands were black and shiny with the thick grease. And the smell. My god, did he stink. And it made me hard. 

'Whoa, excuse me, dude. Sorry. You okay?' he spoke in a rich, southern accent 'the employee washroom is out of order. You should really lock the door'

'Yeah, I'm fine. Just let me clean up' I said as I checked my suit for grime in the mirror. And trying to hide my erect cock trying to find it's way out of my tailored suit pants. But Caleb - that's what his nametag read - noticed anyway. He scoffed and gave a lopsided smile that just made my hornier, but I acted like I did'nt see it.

'And I thought Christmas was still six months away,' he said as he placed his hand between my legs and aggressively grabbed onto my growing bulge from behind. 'But hey, I'm down for a present any day, how about you, fancy man?'

I couldn't help it, I closed my eyes and threw my head back, groaning softly, biting my lip as he kept groping me. But then I felt wet and cold and I looked down at my crotch.

'Hey!' I cried, pulling away, 'fuck, my suit!' My pants were fucked, stained dark with the grease and molded to the outline of my hard cock. 

'Oh? Well let me wash that nasty little stain out for you,' he said as he shoved me onto the floor and pulled his massive cock out of his work pants. Before I could even think he started pissing onto my crotch, then my vest, lapels, my shirt collar and perfectly knotted tie. Then he aimed for my face and hair. I quickly forgot about my greased up suit as my cock got even harder and I began drinking his piss thirstily as it hit my face.

'You like piss pretty boy?'

I nodded.

'Well, try this on for size' he pulled me up by my lapels with his filthy hands and spun me around, bending me over the sink, he squeezed my ass a few times, and he was running his hand through my crack before pushing against the seam until the sound of my six thousand dollar suit being torn filled the tiny restroom. Then he tore my Calvin's. I felt a finger slip into me and I softly groaned, he chucked and pulled the finger out. More ripping, I could feel air down my thigh so I knew it was bad. I started to protest, having second thoughts, but then I felt his cockhead just before he plunged his entire length into my tight hole. 

I screamed, but that just seemed to encourage him. He fucked me harder with each thrust, and it hurt. But then it started to feel wonderful. My own cock was ready to bust through my ruined pants, so I unzipped and pulled it out, jacking to the rhythm of his fucking. His hands moved my chest, first staining then tearing my white shirt and pulling it out of my vest. He grabbed onto my nipples, pinching them hard.

He pulled me off of the sink and slammed me into the wall, face first, his cock still inside me. He continued with his fucking, but his right hand went to my cock, his left roughly shoved the back of my suit jacket up and out of the way, tearing the center seam. I could feel him rubbing his hand over the white silk back of my vest before yanking on it until it tore free, sending the front to my feet. He abruptly pulled out and spun me around and pushed me onto my knees facing him, shoving his meat into my hungry mouth.

'Yeah, you little fuck, taste me. Mmmm, take it all,' he said as he pissed again, the bright yellow man beer running out of my mouth and onto my lapels and tie. His greasy hand grasped my hair, pulling my face in with every thrust of his groin.

He pulled his cock out of my mouth and began jacking it fast, using the white silk vest backing. His grunting got louder and louder, until finally he emtied himself all over fy face, hair, and suit. I licked his cock clean, sovouring the taste of his salty cum.

I was still jacking when he pulled me up by the back of my suit jacket, ripping it in two. 'Finish up and git yourself cleaned up. I'm gonna go get you some clothes,' he said, then kissed me long and full on my lips and left the bathroom, some of his own him in his facial scruff.

I looked at myself in the mirror. My suit was totaled. It was tattered and torn, hanging limp from piss and grease, but my tie was still on, tied tight but dirty at my ruined shirt's collar. My hair was stained from grease. The sight of me in my ruined suit just made me hornier, so I jacked even harder, sitting on the floor with my legs spread, shooting nine shots of my thick cum all over my tattered suit. 

Caleb came in with a change of clothes and a trash bag. I stripped out of my rags and put on the clothes he had brought. Cargo shorts and a white Hollister polo smudged with grease, and they were way too big on my swimmer's frame. I fished out my cufflinks and pocketed them. I ducked my head under the faucet and rinsed as much grease out as I could. He bundled up my clothes and shoved them into the trash bag and left. I walked back in and paid the pretty redhead for the service, ignoring the odd looks from the staff over my drastically different attire. I quickly left and got into my car. 

It started up great, no warning lights to be seen. As for my client, I wasn't so lucky. It was twenty minutes before I was to meet him and I had no suitable clothes to wear. I called and told him that I was having car trouble. He wasn't happy, and it's the first time I've cancelled on a client. I hung up the phone and looked around the car, noticing something on the passenger seat. It was the garage's business card, stained with grease, with a phone number scrawled across it. I grinned and put it in my wallet. Do I have any regrets? Nope. That oil change was a helluva bargan and worth every penny.