Nandita To Nandini
- 3 years ago
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Breaking Down And Giving In free porn video
Have you ever had one of those days when you think things can’t get any worse and then, all of a sudden - BAM! - fate throws something else at you as if to say, ‘Hah! That’s what you think!’?
Today is one of those days for me.
It’s Sunday afternoon and I am standing here, alone, in a country lane in the middle of nowhere.
My car has cut out and will not restart.
My phone battery is dead.
And it’s also the middle of winter.
I pull my coat around me, trying to protect myself against the chill of the wind. I’m debating if I should wait inside the car, but I am sure I remember reading somewhere that doing so is more dangerous as you could get hit by another car. Besides, my chances of flagging down another motorist and asking for help could be even smaller if I can’t jump out in time to stop them.
I’m guessing that there will be a farmhouse somewhere nearby – all I can see around me are fields – but today’s choice of footwear is not suitable for trekking through the countryside. I am on my way back from a job interview at a posh country hotel and I have dressed for the role of the weekend-receptionist that I am hoping to become; high heels, sheer tights, fitted pencil skirt and a pinstriped blouse. My hands and feet are starting to feel numb from the cold.
Ten minutes later, just as panic starts to kick in, I see a car heading towards me and I pray that it will stop.
It does.
An older woman, dressed in a district nurse’s uniform, steps out and asks me what has happened. I start to tell her about my car and phone situation, but she can see that I am shivering and tells me to get into the passenger seat of her car whilst we figure out what to do next.
She asks me if I have breakdown insurance and I shake my head, mumbling something about forgetting to renew it. The truth is that I can no longer afford such luxuries, ever since two months ago when the man I thought I would spend forever with decided to trade me in for a younger model, generously leaving me with a broken heart and a substantial amount of debt. This is why I need the second job at the hotel so badly, and why I was willing to venture out on the coldest day of the year so far. But I keep this information to myself.
Val – as she tells me to call her – gets out her phone and starts Googling nearby garages and workshops, before announcing that as it is a Sunday, all of them will be closed. She sits silently for a moment, clearly racking her brain for a solution, until her face lights up.
“I’ve just remembered! One of the residents of the street I live on is a mechanic. A nice family they are, their daughter was friends with mine at school. I sometimes see the wife at church. I don’t have a number for them, but if I drive you there and explain what’s happened, I am sure they’ll be willing to help you.”
I’m normally the sort of person who hates asking anyone for anything, but today I am desperate. I tell Val that I don’t want to put her out, but she laughs and says that as they only live five doors down from her, it’s hardly an inconvenience. I brave the icy winds again to make sure my car is locked, get back into the passenger seat and she starts the engine and heads towards home.
She pulls up outside a smart-looking detached house with a large, well maintained front garden and tells me to wait whilst she finds out if the family are home. A few minutes later, she comes back beaming and tells me that sure enough, her rescue plan is now in place. She introduces me to Tony, who I assume to be the dad of the family – a guy probably in his late forties, maybe a little older, I can’t tell – then tells us she needs to get back to get dinner started.
I thank her profusely and watch as she walks back to her car.
“So then,” Tony says, a look of concern on his face. “Why don’t you come inside and tell me what’s happened?”
I’m nervous stepping into a strange house, but I remember that Val said she has known the family for many years, which makes me feel a little easier. The inside of the house is as immaculate as the outside, beautifully furnished by someone who clearly has a knack for interior design. I offer to take my shoes off, but Tony tells me I don’t need to and leads me into the lounge.
I sit down on a large, sumptuous leather sofa and begin to explain what happened. I tell him how the dashboard suddenly lit up like a Christmas tree and strange noises came out of the engine before the car slowly ground to a halt. Without warning, I feel hot tears welling up in my eyes, the stresses of today overwhelming me. I choke them back and hope that he hasn’t noticed. If he has, he is kind enough not to comment.
“Right, well before we do anything, I’m going to put the kettle on. You look like you could do with a hot drink, and I haven’t had a coffee since the rest of them went out this morning,” he informs me.
I suddenly look wary at the news that we are alone, which he picks up on.
“My son should be back fairly soon,” he adds. “He’s playing football, though I am surprised it wasn’t cancelled with how cold it is. My wife’s taken our daughter for some sort of pampering day – I don’t know what you women do at spas – but they’ll be back in a few hours. Now, do you prefer tea or coffee?”
His explanation sounds plausible, so I relax again and ask for a coffee with milk, no sugar. He heads off to the kitchen and comes back with a tray containing two steaming mugs and a plate of chocolate cookies that look homemade. I haven’t eaten since early this morning and I realise that my stomach is painfully empty, so I gratefully take one, and then another.
As I demolish the biscuits, Tony makes casual chitchat, asking me where I was going to and from and then about how the interview went. I happily answer his questions between mouthfuls of coffee, before he poses one that throws me.
“So, what would your boyfriend think if he knew you were alone with an older man?” There’s a cheeky, playful tone to his voice.
I nearly choke on my drink and I can feel the colour rise in my cheeks.
I have to take a deep breath before I can answer.
“I’m actually single at the moment.”
I can’t swear it, but I think I see the faintest glint of a smile cross his lips.
“Well, you do surprise me! Good looking girl like you…I was sure you’d have a significant other.”
I feel the tears starting again. He’s touched the rawest nerve on the day that I am most sensitive.
This time, he can tell I’m upset.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. None of my business, is it? Anyway, getting back to your car. It sounds like it’ll need towing to the garage, plus some parts and obviously, labour. Hate to say it, but it’ll probably run well into three figures. But you can pay by card if you don’t have any cash on you.”
I feel sick to the bottom of my stomach.
How did I overlook the fact that this would need paying for? I mentally kick myself for being so stupid and blush furiously as I try to figure this out. My bank account is overdrawn and my credit cards are maxed out. I can’t ask friends or family for help, I already owe my parents for last month’s rent.
What the hell am I going to do?
I look at Tony pleadingly.
“The thing is,” I begin. “I don’t get paid until next week. Is there any chance I could pay by bank transfer then? I’m so sorry to ask but… well, money is a little tight right now.”
He considers this for a moment and then slowly shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t think most garages give credit. It would cause big cash flow problems and then there’s the risk people drive off and are never seen again. I’m sure you understand.”
He waits for a moment before he speaks again.
“But I can see that this will cause you an issue and I really want to help you. So, what if we could come to a – how shall I word this – special arrangement?”
My heart races as my mind begins to process what he is implying.
“What sort of arrangement?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
“I think you know,” he replies. “The sort where you do something nice for me and I do something nice for you.”
I can’t speak. I look at him, willing him to give me a sign that he isn’t asking me for a sexual favour. But as his hand slowly moves to his belt and begins to unbuckle, it’s painfully clear what he has in mind.
He throws a cushion onto the floor, between his legs, and points to it.
“Come here,” he demands, the friendly, fatherly tone gone from his voice. “And kneel on that.”
I’m frozen to the spot. Never, ever have I imagined ending up in a situation like this.
“Can’t we talk about this?” I plead. “Surely there must be another solution.”
“The solution is that you get over here and suck my cock. But, let us be clear, I am not forcing you. If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. But good luck finding someone who will fix your car for free on a Sunday afternoon.”
Much though I hate to admit it, I know he is right.
This is my only option.
“Hang on,” I suddenly say. “What if your family come home. What would they think?”
He laughs, almost menacingly. “My son won’t be home for at least another hour. It’s not even half-time yet. The girls won’t be back until this evening. So, don’t worry, we have plenty of time for this little transaction.”
I take a deep breath and get up, then slowly make my way over to him.
As instructed, I kneel down on the velvet cushion placed in front of him and watch as he unzips his jeans and pulls his cock out from his underwear.
He’s already hard; clearly, he is enjoying this power trip.
I lean forwards, steadying my hands on the arms of the chair as I prepare to take him in my mouth, when I feel his hand on the back of my head, forcing me forwards into his lap. He’s grabbing my hair with one hand and using the other to guide his erection between my lips and straight to the back of my throat.
I gag.
Both hands are in my hair now, as he thrusts his hips hard, fucking my mouth hard and fast.
I’m trying to concentrate on the job in hand, well, in mouth, reasoning that the harder I suck, the sooner he might finish, and this will all be over. I pull my lips into a tight ‘O’ shape and increase the suction, which, judging from the grunting noises that he is making, he likes.
I taste his salty pre-cum, lapping it up with firm flicks of my tongue, before he speaks again.
“Much though I am enjoying this,” he tells me as he abruptly pulls out of my mouth. “I want more. I forgot earlier, Sundays normally mean double time. A blowjob isn’t going to be enough. I want you to get your clothes off, now. Be quick about it.”
“But…”
“Just fucking well do as you are told. Strip!”
I know there is no point arguing with him, so I do as he asks. I quickly unbutton my blouse, then my skirt, letting them fall to the floor. I take off my shoes and tights, then turn to face him, trying to cover my body with my arms.
“No point trying to hide yourself, sweetheart. I want to see everything. Take your bra and panties off, too.”
What’s left of my dignity evaporates as I remove my underwear.
“Now come and sit on my lap.”
He gestures for me to sit sideward on his lap, so that my legs hang over one side of the chair. I can feel the hairs on his thighs brushing against the backs of mine and his cock is pressing against my ass cheeks.
Without saying anything, he begins to run his hands over my body, squeezing, kneading and grabbing at my flesh.
He lingers on my tits, lowering his head to take a nipple into his mouth. He sucks hard, causing me to squeal, but this only encourages him to increase the pressure. I feel his teeth grazing the tip, but I hold in a scream for fear he will bite me. He moves to the other tit, latching on and repeating the previous actions until the nipple is protruding and swollen.
As he lifts up to admire his work, I feel his hand snaking between my thighs, prising them open. He rubs up and down my slit, then slides a finger inside me. Then another. Still lapping at my nipple, he uses his thumb to rub my clit as his fingers slowly fuck me.
To my horror, I realise that I am getting wet.
He knows it, too.
“Mmmmm, so my baby’s enjoying this after all,” he croons, barely concealing the delight from his voice. “I knew she would. Now, I want to see how grateful you are. Put your heels back on and bend over the sofa. Hold onto the side with both hands and get that ass in the air.”
His words are full of lust and delivered with confidence.
He knows that he is in charge, that I am just a fuck doll to him.
I do as he asks, and he gets up and stands behind me. He’s a good few inches taller than me, so has to bend his knees a little.
“Good girl,” he says, running his hands across my buttocks. “Now it’s time to give me that juicy pussy. Get ready, here it comes!”
As he says this, he aims his cock and my soaking entrance and forces his way inside in one go. I nearly lose my balance, but the sofa breaks my fall.
He finds his rhythm quickly, pumping me hard and fast. I’m struggling to stand up as my stiletto heels sink into the deep carpet, so he uses one of his harms to pull both of mine behind my back, restraining me and holding me up. With his free hand, he plays with my tits, alternately slapping and squeezing them.
Suddenly, he releases my right arm.
“Play with yourself,” he demands. “I want to feel you cum with my cock buried deep inside you.”
I do as he says. In spite of the situation, I feel the lust building within me. I frantically stroke my swollen clit as he continues to pound my pussy and play roughly with my breasts, which bang together vigorously, in time with his thrusts.
“Oh my God, I’m…. I’m….” I scream as I cum, hard, soaking his cock with my juices.
I have to use my arms to steady myself as he continues to fuck me; my legs are like jelly. He pulls out of me and spins me around to face him.
“On your knees again,” he orders. “I want to cum in that pretty little mouth of yours.”
He pushes my shoulders down before I can argue and holds his cock in front of my lips.
I open my mouth and take it, realising that this is the first time I have ever sucked a guy straight after sex. I’ve always thought that tasting my pussy juices on a cock would be weird, almost wrong on some level, but as I begin to blow him, I find it incredibly sexy.
His hands are in my hair again as he fucks my face, roughly grabbing bunches that hold me just where he wants me.
His pace quickens, he grunts like an animal and then I feel him flooding my mouth with hot, salty cum. Ropes and ropes of it, fired at my tonsils and he empties his balls with my lips clamped around his shaft.
I swallow every last drop.
He collapses back in the chair, then opens his eyes to check the clock.
“Fuck,” he says, although I am not sure if he is talking to me or himself. “He’ll be home soon. We better get dressed.”
I put on my clothes quickly as he does the same. I take a hairbrush out of my bag and tidy my hair up to get read of the ‘just been fucked hard’ evidence.
“Do we need to make a move now?” I ask him.
“No,” he replies, shaking his head. “I need to wait for my son to get home.”
“How come? Doesn’t he have his own key?”
“He’s twenty-four, of course he does,” he laughs. “But you need to meet him, because, well, he’s the mechanic in this house.”
I look at him as the anger bubbles up from within me.
I’ve been had, I think to myself. In more ways than one.
Then we hear the lounge door open.
“What the hell is going on in here?” a voice asks.
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