Sucking The Mechanic

Johnny leans against the hood still in coveralls, grease on his knuckles and a bulge obvious at his zipper. Maya meets his eyes, reaches straight for it and hauls the thick length free. She drops straight to her knees on the cold concrete and slides her lips around him without a word. Spit coats her fingers as she fists the base in tight strokes and works her tongue under the crown, swiping every inch he feeds her. Johnny grips the fender, pumps his hips in a short rhythm, grunting each time her throat clenches. She keeps at it till every drop spits across her tongue, swallows it all with a filthy smile and leaves him catching his breath by the toolbox.