You'll pay for this!

She needed her car. Couldn't pay. Nothing in her pockets, no cards in her wallet. But the woman behind the counter took one long look and decided other forms of payment were acceptable. "Come with me," the owner said. Simple. Direct. She led the customer to the back office, locked the door, then pushed her onto the worn leather couch. No words about the car. Just rough hands. The mechanic yanked the woman's jeans down to her knees and spread her thighs without ceremony. The customer felt two thick fingers shove inside her before she could speak. The mechanic worked them deep, knuckles flexing, slick with her. She leaned close, breath hot, teeth grazing the woman's ear. "Open wider." The payment kept going until her wrist glistened and the younger woman was shaking. Her clit throbbed under the mechanic's thumb, rubbed raw and tender. When she finally pulled those fingers free, the mechanic wiped them on the customer's inner thigh like a mark of ownership. Then the real work began. The woman climbed up, straddled the panting customer, and ground her bare cunt against an upturned face. She held her there. Rode her slow at first, then faster, hips grinding down until she came hard—wet heat slicking the customer's mouth and chin. She rode it out. Didn't move. Didn’t let go. Just kept her face pressed tight until every twitch had passed. After, she stood, straightened her coveralls, and tossed the woman her keys. "Shop’s closed at six. I’ll need another payment before you drive out."