Spare parts 2

I was so lost in Steve's kiss that I thought I would drown. I was unashamedly grinding my crotch into his and I had my hand in the top of his jeans and was fondling the rapidly-hardening tube that was hiding there. In my mind I was more than ready to take the -- to me -- unlikely leap of not only being open to sex with a man (and my mind hit a wall when I contemplated what that could entail) but 'dropping my standards' and being manhandled by a roughneck like Steve. 

I needn't have worried. My Grease Monkey suddenly stepped back from me and a sober look came over his face. All at once there was at least a yard between us and my body missed his heat already, every fiber of my being wanting to slake my thirst at Steve's cup.

"Jonty, I wanna nail your ass today, 'cos your proper manners and perfect wardrobe make me wanna undo you like a christmas present. But I don't want you to regret it later. Take a moment to think about this before we go too far and you hate me. What's it gonna be?"

Suddenly the absurdity of the situation hit me like a bucket of cold water. The sheer sex of the man in front of me addled my brain, what with the cock that hid secretly behind a bush of fur in his open jeans and his juicy ass that played tricks with my straight-boy brain. I shook my head to try and clear it of the rutting mist that seemed to cloak me in a sex-crazed alternate reality.

In spite of my body's obvious disagreement, I shook my head.

"Steve, I'm not gay, and I don't really want to have sex with a guy. You're fucking sexy, for sure but..."

"It's ok Jonty Cravin, I thought you'd regret it later and I don't wanna take something from you that you'd miss when it's gone. It's cool."

He walked to the other side of the desk and a regretful half-smile played on his sexy face. It struck me that I was still thinking of him as sexy. What the fuck was happening to me? The sooner I got out of this place and into the cold, hard world of my kingdom as ruthless stockbroker, the better.

As if my call had been answered by the gods I heard a car outside skid in on the gravel, and shortly after a voice called my name. My assistant had done what I told her -- for once. My voice was hoarse.

"My ride is here. Please let me know when I can send somebody to collect my car."

I handed him my card and he took it without a word. A rueful smile played on his lips. He looked at me under his blonde fringe and my lips tingled where I'd felt his tongue less than a minute before. My cock was still not down and I quickly adjusted myself before my assistant walked in on us. My face burned, and as if to taunt me he cradled his basket in his hand and waggled it at me. 'You sure?' his eyes asked and I shook my head, opened the door and was out of that cool oasis into the raging heat of the real world.

My annoying assistant wanted to chat on the way back to the office.

"What was that apparition that was working on your car? God, it was barely dressed with its ass hanging out all over the place."

'Shut the fuck up,' I thought viciously, feeling strangely protective of the man that I'd had such a hot moment with in the cool of his untidy office.

"He's a really good mechanic and he was recommended to me by somebody that takes their job seriously while I was stranded on the side of the road and you were twiddling your thumbs in the air conditioned office that I pay for with my blood, sweat and tears." 

Wow that was harsh even for me. But I shouldn't have worried. She was immune to my bitching and just carried on trashing Steve as if he was a nobody that didn't fit into our world of figures, cocktails and invites. He didn't have his shirts delivered by the dozen or have his shoes handmade to spec. I remembered his honest touch and his complete disregard for my money and clothes, although his immunity seemed to be not ignorance, but a careless choice in favour of something simpler.

'Shit,' I thought, 'this guy has fucked with my brain,' and I took a deep cleansing breath of the leather and car deodorant that signified sanity and the stuff that motivated me. I needed some hard trading to ground me in what mattered.


I didn't think about Steve again that day. I didn't have time. Once I was back on the floor adrenaline took over and the rush of the kill was all I focused on. Could focus on. 

But later, when I was chilling over a drink with my girlfriend, her perfectly manicured hand on mine at the bar, her silken leg nudging between my knees, her expensive perfume subtly trailing its usual magic around my senses, I remembered the electric sensation of his course chest hair against my palm and the honest taste of his teeth and tongue on my lips. The tongue that had snagged mine in a moment of unplanned passion, and the sight of his completely unadorned and unapologetic sexiness as he literally skidded his dusty way into my awareness.

My body wasn't immune to the invitation that my girlfriend was clearly delivering. So we went home to my Manhattan apartment and left our expensive clothes in a trail from the door to the lounge floor, where I sucked on her pussy until she literally exploded in my face. Meanwhile all I could think of was Steve's face there with mine, his rough cheek grinding against mine and us making out, his hand on my cock, while we worked that slippery crack together until the lips were so swollen and red that it looked like some exotic flower that was going to crack open any minute. When she screamed my name and clamped my head between her thighs, ruining my perfect hairstyle, a lifted myself up and ravaged her lipsticked mouth with my butter-glazed lips, stuck my aching penis in her cleft in one savage motion and with three thrusts deposited my pent-up frustration deep in the warmth of her welcoming recesses. I only just managed not to whisper the name of the grimy Grease Monkey whose face swam in my orgasm-addled mind's eye.

She was ready to stay but I called a cab and sent her home. I wanted to sleep the sleep of the forgetful and prepare for another million dollar day. 

Almost a week passed and I was keen to have my baby back in service. The part, I heard when my brainless assistant called to inquire, was being imported and it would be 'at least a day or two more.' Then on Friday afternoon at about 3pm, more or less when we all lost steam and got ready to unload our adrenaline on the weekend, I got a call from security to say my car was being delivered. I assumed that my ass-istant had forgotten to tell me, and cursing out of the one side of my mouth and smiling out of the other at the thought of being mobile again, I set off in the lift to collect it at the parking garage.

I assumed I'd just collect the keys from the attendant but he waved me to where my car was waiting in my customary parking spot. The guy that was delivering had his back to me. He was buffing a last smudge off the gleaming green paintwork and I fished out my wallet to hand him a tip. He was wearing a pair of skintight jeans and what could only be a pair of very expensive shoes. His shirt was slightly sweat-stained since the day was blistering, but it was pale blue and offset the blonde hair that curled across the collar. His back was broad and swooped neatly into the waist of his levis, where an embossed belt punctuated the meeting with a slightly rustic touch of style. 

When I got to him he turned and I was still fiddling in my wallet for a tenner. As I lifted my eyes I saw his hand which held the keys out to me jangling them slightly to attract my attention. I finally got the banknote out and looked up at him to hand him the tip but then I stopped in my tracks.

"Hey Jonty Cravin, we meet again." Now that Steve was turned towards me I could see there was no way you could restrain that bush of chest hair and it was clawing its way out of the clean shirt that was open to the third button. His jeans also struggled to contain their cargo, as the clear outline of something long and tubular snaked down his right thigh, almost halfway to his knee.

"Like what you see? Haha just kidding." I hastily disciplined my eyes to look at his face but there I was similarly enticed. His hair was clean and shiny and the unruly curls tangled around his naughty eyes and his stubbled cheeks. His lips were rosy and moist and his smile made me forget where I was. Fuck, who I was.

"You ok, pardner? You look kind of drugged."

"It's been a long day, a long week, for that matter, and I'm kinda bushed," was all I could manage.

For a moment I fumbled with my wallet, trying to put  away the embarrassing tenner that I'd planned on offering him, but he reached out and snatched it from my hand.

"Not so fast, boss, I won't say no to a tip, no matter how small," He folded it neatly and slid it into the pocket of his jeans on the side where his cock was suffocating. 

"You can always take it back later if you want." He patted the pocket lightly and smirked at me.

My mouth was dry and I struggled to manufacture some saliva to come up with something intelligible to say in answer. No luck.

"Here, hop in and let's take her for a test drive to make sure you're satisfied. I brought you some water to wet your whistle. It's a scorcher again, just like the last time we saw each other." He arched his eyebrow and flicked the keys at me in a lazy arc. I snatched them out of the air and walked around to the left side of the car, clicking the immobiliser. The familiar 'whoop' warmed my heart and Steve's laughing eyes took in my glee at having my car back.

He slid into the passenger seat and cracked a bottle of ice cold water and handed it to me.

I gratefully took a swig and in my haste some bled out of my mouth and ran down my chin.

"Hey ease on there Jonty Cravin, no sense in getting your pretty shirt wet, now is there?"

He reached over and with his thumb wiped the excess water off my chin and then bottom lip. The feel of his work-rough fingers on my three o'clock shadow and mouth sent a shiver of electricity through me.

"There, that should do it. Fire her up, boss, and let's see how she does."

I did just that and the wheels screeched as I took the corners to get to the bottom level of the parking garage. When I shot out into the sunny open air and accelerated down Wall street, Steve's laugh echoed my joy at being in my baby again.

"Ride her Cowboy!" he yelled and put his hand on my knee. He gave it a vigorous rub and returned it to his own leg, the one with the trouser snake. I snuck a glance at him and my face cracked a smile. 

"You did a good job, Grease Monkey," I joked and elbowed him on his muscular pec. 

"Hey pretty boy, watch where you're going! If I'm going to take you out on a date I want us to be alive enough to enjoy it!"

"A date? I thought you were giving me space cos you didn't want me to regret doing something I didn't really want." The freedom of driving my baby had restored my confidence and good humour and I was ready fro some banter. If this was going to be what it is I was ready for it.

"I lied. Tell me Jonty Cravin, how many times did you think of me during the weeks since I last saw you?"

I didn't answer but the furious blush on my cheeks told the whole story. 

"Just as I thought," he drawled.

"And did you make love to your fancy princess?"

I nodded and kept my eyes on the road.

"What did you think of when you came? Who did you think of?"

He leaned forward and tried to catch my eyes when I ignored the question. If anything my face got even redder and I looked out of the driver's window to avoid his stare.

We stopped at a red traffic light and I could feel his eyes on me. At last I couldn't avoid his stare any longer and looked at him.

"It's not every pretty boy that I get all cleaned up for, Jonty Cravin. I'm delivering more than your car here today." His gaze held mine and for the first time the humour left his eyes. Instead a kind of tenderness rested there. I felt like I was falling forward into a pool of sky blue water. I felt so dizzy that I shook my head to regain my equilibrium.

"You done for the day?" I croaked. A slow smile spread over his stubbled mouth.

"Yeah, and I don't have a ride anyway so you stuck with me."

"You wanna get a beer?"

"Yeah, that would be great. I'll buy the first round. I got a generous tip from a satisfied customer."

I shook my head and accelerated as the light turned green. I didn't say anything and wove my way through the Friday afternoon traffic. In about 15 minutes we pulled into the basement of my apartment building and I screeched to a halt in my parking space. In the dim light of the garage I could see the puzzled look in Steve's eyes.

"You're all clean and fresh and I must take a quick shower to wash Wall Street off my tired body," I answered his unasked question.

We got out of the car and entered the lift. When the doors closed Steve walked over to me and stood close enough to me to feel the warmth radiating off his body. He shuffled forward slightly until our bodies were touching from top to bottom and leaned against me. His weight pinned me to the wall in a not entirely unpleasant manner. As he did before, he rested his forehead against mine and looked into my eyes at extremely close quarters. He put his hands on my hips and tilted his head so our breath mingled.

"I don't want to have sex with you, Jonty Cravin..."

I felt disappointment that I had misunderstood his signals, sink to my gut.

"Oh -- " I said and tried to turn my face away from him. Shame started to push its way upwards out of my chest and I felt inexplicable tears begin to push into my eyes.

"Whoa there, easy," he said and put a gentle hand on my chin, stopping me from looking away.

"I don't want to have sex with you, Jonty, cos I want to make love to you."

"You do?" My heart was beating fit to break its way out of my chest. I could feel the thudding of his own heart against my ribcage and I knew he was telling the truth.

"Yeah," he breathed into my mouth and with the softest of touches, laid his lips on mine.

I moaned from somewhere deep inside as he gently pried my lips apart with his tongue and slid into my mouth. We hadn't closed our eyes and he pinned me to the wall with his the intensity of his gaze. He slid his hand down my hips and around to my ass and cupped my buns in his mechanic's hands. A mental picture of the grease under his nails floated into my mind and I felt a small sigh of appreciation at the honesty of that, escape my mouth.

"Jesus, Jonty baby, you have the sweetest lips I've ever tasted," he hissed as he laid into me and devoured me like a hungry man at a feast. I lifted my arms, which until now had been trapped behind me against the wall of the elevator and tangled my hands in Steve's blonde hair. I ground our mouths together as we picked up speed, but then the elevator started to slow down and I heard the tell-tale 'ding' that signaled the arrival on a new floor with a passenger to embark. 

Slow as anything he stepped to the side and stood next to me and anybody with half an eye would have seen what had been going on here a moment before.

"Nice day, not so hot again," Steve Made conversation with the old lady that got on, and she nodded politely. She turned and stood in front of us and Steve took my hand and brought it to his mouth, deftly swallowing my thumb and painfully sucking it. A small slurping noise escaped and he quickly dropped my hand and pulled out his hanky to blow his nose noisily.

'What's it with all the blushing?" I berated myself as I felt my face colour like a randy schoolgirl. The lift stopped again and the old lady got out on the restaurant floor of our apartment building. I knew we had two more floors to go. Steve kept his distance and when the doors opened into the lounge of my top floor penthouse, Steve's jaw dropped.