WARNING: This story includes sexually explicit material.

 Please note any unfamiliar spellings and phrases may be due to the
 fact I am English, not American.

 Any and all comments, including constructive criticisms, would be 
 most appreciated. 
 Please send to artemis55@hotmail.com 

 This work is copyrighted by the author.  You may download and keep
 one copy for your personal use as long as my byline and e-mail 
 address and this paragraph remain on the copy.  Any posting or 
 reposting on a website or to a newsgroup requires my permission
 first (but I'll probably say yes). This story should not, under any
 circumstances be used to make a profit by anyone other than the 
 author

 I would like to thank Morgan for his help with editing and 
 americanising this story.

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REPOST NOTE: First story I was really happy with. Had a lot of 
complaints about the end but a little cynicism does no harm. I would 
have posted my orginal English version but my disk has become corrupted
and I'm to lazy to revise this version.


BTW Jeremy Clarkson is a well-known TV presenter of a car review 
programme for the BBC.

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                             JUST A SCRATCH


She would be the first to admit she had had slightly too much to drink 
but she had been so bored. Even though it had been a business dinner 
she had somehow hoped for some variety in the conversation, but she 
had hoped in vain. Then, when she had at last thought they were 
leaving, the boss had detained her boyfriend. Given the choice between
trying to make more stilted small talk with Mrs. Boss or waiting in 
the car she had opted for the latter. So here she was, wandering 
vaguely around a deserted multi-story parking garage in an alcoholic 
haze wondering if she could remember where they had left the car, when
her gaze was attracted by a gleam of red in the far corner.


A Lotus crouched in the corner, looking like an exotic creature 
trapped in the mundane garage. It was the kind of car most people 
dreamed of owning but knew the nearest they would probably ever get 
would be to watch Jeremy Clarkson drool over it on TV or to see some 
skimpily-clad model sprawl over it on a calendar.


Walking over to it she ran a hand along the smooth shiny hood. To her 
surprise no ear-splitting alarm shrilled in response to her touch. To 
check, she pushed down on the bumper, so that the car bounced on it's 
suspension, but still the alarm was silent. She knew the owner would 
be annoyed when he discovered the car was unprotected, but it gave her
a chance to play.


Impulsively she decided to see just what it felt like to be one of 
those calendar models. Kicking off her shoes, she climbed onto the 
hood. She lay on it, her back pressing against the cool shiny metal, 
then wriggled onto her stomach, kicking her legs in the air while her 
hair spread out across the bonnet. She was just beginning to enjoy 
herself when she heard someone clearing his throat in an 
attention-getting manner. Sitting up, she saw a man smiling 
quizzically down at her. He must have been in his 40's with a long 
lean body, an intelligent weathered face and a wicked gleam in his 
eyes. Feeling slightly foolish she hastily slid off the hood to the 
floor.


"Not quite what you usually expect to find on the hood of a Lotus," he
commented, looking amused. She smiled weakly at him, unsure what to 
say. "Hope you've not scratched it," he added, bending down to check 
the paintwork.


"Oh no, I can't have." she replied, watching him anxiously. "I didn't 
mean to do any damage, I just couldn't resist the impulse."


"I understand. It's a beautiful machine. Oh no, look, there's a 
scratch." She looked where he was pointing and to her horror saw he 
was right. "Hey don't look so worried, I'm sure it will be easy enough
to fix."


"Do you really think so?" she asked hopefully.


"Yeah, and a tiny scratch like that isn't worth bothering the 
insurance company about. I'm sure we can just settle it between us." 
She gaped at him in surprise.


"You want me to give you some money?" she asked in bewilderment.


"Well that's one way to settle it. I did have another form of 
compensation in mind though."


"What is that?" she queried cautiously.


"Well, you're a very sexy lady and I have had a very frustrating day. 
So how about we come to some other arrangement. I fuck you on the hood
of this car you can't resist and we'll call it even," he suggested 
outrageously, moving closer. 


"What!" she gasped. She couldn't believe what he was suggesting. 
Anyone, her boyfriend included, could come into the garage and see 
them. At the idea a flutter of excitement ran through her. She knew 
that under her facade of mature respectability the reckless girl she 
had been was still hiding. And if her boyfriend did catch her, she 
would be interested in his reaction. Anger, jealously, hurt, whatever 
... at least his response would hopefully have some passion in it for 
a change. For a moment longer she hesitated, then she saw his 
challenging smile and gave in to her adventurous side.


"Why not?" she whispered. "This seems to be my night for acting on 
impulse. Do you have a condom?" He dug in a pocket and triumphantly 
produced one.  Before she could change her mind she quickly reached 
down and pulled her top over her head. His mouth crushed hers in a 
passionate kiss as he expertly removed her bra. He drew back to admire
her breasts, smiling as her nipples hardened in the cool air. He 
cupped their weight in his hands and closed his warm mouth over her 
nipples, sucking and stroking them with his tongue until she moaned 
with pleasure. He rubbed his chin around her breasts, the feel of his 
stubble on her sensitive skin making her gasp and writhe against him. 
It only took a moment to slip her panties off and while his mouth 
returned to tormenting her nipples his fingers began to stroke her 
clit.  She arched against the car, the tremors started by his agile 
tongue and nimble fingers stealing the strength from her legs.


He slipped a finger inside her and smiled to feel how wet she was. Her
body was a whirl of conflicting sensations, cold hard metal at her 
back, warm wet mouth on her front, cool firm fingers in her hot wet 
pussy. He drew back and started to undo his trousers but she eagerly 
helped him, sliding down the zip and unbuttoning his boxers to free 
his hard cock. With one hand she stroked him and with the other 
reached down to massage his balls while he opened the condom. He 
quickly rolled it on and she eagerly spread her legs, more than ready 
for him.


He shook his head and pulled her off the bonnet, then turned her 
around and bent her over it. She gasped as her sensitized nipples were 
pressed into the cold smooth metal, then gave a whimper of pleasure as 
he thrust his cock into her, stretching and filling her in one smooth 
movement. She arched her back, supporting her weight on her elbows as 
he reached forward with one hand to grasp her breast. Then he began to 
move, rhythmically pushing his cock into her while his clever fingers 
massaged her nipples.  She was unable to move in any way, trapped 
between his hard body and the even harder metal of the car with no 
choice but to let him set the pace. Her gasps and cries became louder 
as her cunt clenched around his cock and she writhed helplessly under 
him as she came.  He grasped her hips and relentlessly continued 
thrusting deep inside her, his nails raking across her back as he 
orgasmed.


For a moment they both rested against the car exhausted. Then he 
pulled his trousers back up and courteously helped her refasten her 
bra. But when she bent to pick her panties up he forestalled her.


"I think I'll keep these as a souvenir." he said, slipping them into 
his pocket. He leaned forward and gave her a quick hard kiss, then 
turned and quickly walked over to a shabby Ford Escort. He gave her a 
wicked, slightly apologetic, grin and winked as he slid into the 
driver's seat. Amused, she watched him drive away, then jumped 
guiltily as she heard her boyfriend's voice behind her.


"Sorry I was so long darling, I didn't mean to be but you know what 
the boss is like. I hope you're not too cold. I forgot to give you the
keys."


He fished them out of his pocket and pressed the button. The Lotus 
obediently beeped back at him. He glared at her reproachfully. "I 
don't believe this, you forgot to set the alarm again. You have to be 
careful with a car like this." He ran a caressing hand along the hood, 
then froze. "There's a scratch!" he exclaimed in a strangled voice. "A 
scratch! I'll have to take it down the garage tomorrow."


Unimpressed, she watched him as he mourned over his damaged 
paint-work, cynically wondering if he would notice the scratches on 
her body as quickly or with the same grief.

Copyright Vickie Morgan, 1998
artemis55@hotmail.com

This story is distributed free of charge for your entertainment. It does take quite a lot of time and effort to write, type, edit and post a story.  All I ask is that you take a couple of minutes to e-mail me, let me know that you've read this and perhaps give some reaction. Thank you.