A hot divorcee needs an arse feed,
"Well, that's your splitsville settled," said Juliana.
"Mmm," Francine unhurriedly responded, taking another slow sip of her coffee.
And Jules knew precisely what that Mmm meant.
Yes, Fran had disposed of a worthless prick in Murray, but she was now unhappily cock-less and was rather a pecker-shy girl when it came to just hooking up with random guys.
She would need help getting back into the stirrups, spreading her legs wide and high and enjoying being with a man.
And Jules had a smutty slutty idea for getting Franny focussed on her fanny again.
God, the girl was still under forty, and there was no sense wasting time with online dating jerks or sitting alone on a bar room stool being passed over for vacuous chicks under twenty.
From her pre-marital days, Jules knew hitting on a sure thing was always better.
"Listen, honey," said Juliana, "I heard the following from Petra, who couldn't recall the source, but it was a friend of a friend, quite reliable, who said; that smooth car salesman, Nick Holland, at TJ's Motors is great for a casual fuck. He shags anything under forty and isn't fussed if they are holding up well over that age."
"Sounds like an urban legend to me, sweetie," Francine responded," You know, the friend of a friend. "
"Well, at least have a look at the guy, "Juliana said, using the Café's Wi-Fi.
She brought up the local award-winning showrooms and the staff photos.
There was a clean-cut headshot of their star salesman, Nicholas-Nick- Holland, and she passed her mobile to Fran with the comment: "Hot …Hot…Honey."
"Mmm," responded Fran, but the tone now held interest mixed with unsureness.
"Nice looking," she continued.
He was about thirty-five, fair-haired, blue-eyed, and with a broad smile: you know the car salesperson one: the: you can trust me one.
"But how the hell do I meet him? Seriously, sweetie."
"Well, that's the easy part, "said Jules, "You just take an expensive car for a test drive through The Domain loop roads, stop somewhere private and screw the guy till his balls explode their load in you."
"Nicely expressed Jules, but I'm having trouble, sweetie, with visualising myself with my dress hitched up over my arse, even going pantiless and being humped in an open-top sports car in broad daylight by a guy I may have met for twenty minutes before that. Maybe I should run a test first and see if I like him."
"Geez, Honey, seize the day and all that stuff," added Jules, nudging her friend.
"Get a grip on some balls and just have some wild fun. No strings are attached; you don't have to take him back to your place. If his spunk splatters on the leather, you don't have to clean it up. It's not your car."
Jules prodded and badgered over coffee, and Fran shocked herself by arranging a test drive for tomorrow. Right there and then on her mobile.
The showroom the following afternoon was classy, but in a stunning designer dress, Fran was not out of place.
"Mmm," said Francine finally: "I prefer the red one."
It was a hot, sporty number.
"Sure, "said Nick, eyeing off the stunning brunette in her slinky, sexy, short white dress as he escorted her to the demo test drive model.
She had smooth shaved legs. He was thinking here was a confident woman without pantyhose. But he maintained his professional manner.
Only just, especially as she got in the driver's seat of the demo Red BMW convertible and her dress slipped up her thighs.
Nick had the perfect view, holding the door open for her as her dress slipped right up her thighs, revealing her delicate, soft, inviting inner leg white flesh.
The sort of skin that, when beheld, insists on a massaging sensual squeeze as you work your way to the pad of slitty flesh between a woman's thighs.
Nick went the obvious linked male thought: freshly shaved legs meaning smooth just shaved pussy; as in a fantasy, shaved for you this very morning.
Nick struggled but restored his sales-focus demeanour as he buckled up next to her in the passenger seat and explained the vehicle's technical features in female-friendly language.
He had a car to sell, focusing on style, leather, gadgets and reliability.
Price!
Price always came much later.
But he felt this woman had money and style.
He hoped so.
He needed the bonus commission from a big sale. His girlfriend was hinting all the time recently about a huge, expensive engagement ring.
Francine was full of guilty pleasure driving the sleek, expensive 'toy' through a few city blocks and then opening up its power on The Domain link road.
It was warm and summery, and she felt great. She enjoyed the rush and thrill of opulent extravagance and the open breeze.
Hell, though, she couldn't even afford to flexi-rent this 'baby' unless she squeezed her ex's balls in court again.
She felt even guiltier as she started looping through The Domain Reserve's patchwork of winding and intersecting roads, usually leading upwards to the main lookout points.
She was looking for a dead-end lane to turn off for some privacy, and yes, she had decided to fuck Nick.
It was going to happen.
"I'll just see how it three-point turns along here," said Fran casually, and she was happy with the shaded empty direction of a side road leading to the old colonial gunpowder magazine, which was only open on the last Sunday of every month.
She stopped the car, which surprised Nick, who was expecting a three-point turn.
Suddenly this gorgeous sexy lady was scrambling over the gear stick, unbuckling his seat belt, undoing his tie, getting his cock out of his pants, and giving it a few rapid tugs.
Then guiding his fingers under her dress to her smooth panty-free pussy.
Nick had no idea where this had come from, but he was a guy, and proffered pussy is accepted pussy.
There was no time to waste finding out what was motivating the woman.
Well, her coochie was obviously chasing cock.
Thankfully, she wasn't a MILF: was all he thought before getting lost in cock stiffness.
The car salesman didn't get the chance to say or ask anything, as her tongue was getting very intimate with his tongue. She had her hands wrapped around his face and her legs bent with her body pressing into his.
She was sucking his face off — Intense, passionate, raunchy tongue work.
Nick felt a woman who kissed like this would give great head.
Francine flipped the passenger seat back.
Nick was sloped at just the right angle to get the best view of his cock being sucked off by a wanton, over-sexed woman.
Wow, was she going for it?
Not even his current girlfriend had taken him ball deep so sweetly.
The brunette was a sucking machine. She was engulfing his cock. The salivary slurping teasing of his head was the apex of his immediate pleasure stream.
Fran was surprised at how manic she was. God, she had missed cock, and she was making up for it very quickly as she spat on Nick's shaft and let the spit slide down his prick to his balls, where she nibbled on each nut, drawing out the guy's sack with her lips and sweeping her tongue in darting flicks over and over his balls.
Then up and down his rigid pussy ready shaft.
The no panties decision was validated in an instant as she eased herself over his cock sticking out of his pants. Her dress sort of covered her arse, but if anyone drove past, hell, it was obvious what the couple were doing.
Nick and Francine were doing what two excited bodies do when a rock-hard cock gets pinioned by two pressing soft thighs and a warm, delectable pliable pussy.
It was the heightened awareness of male hardness and female shaping. Her grinding down onto his balls was protracted and repeated.
Here was pure pussy power.
You have either experienced it, or you haven't. Nick was getting it. It was like hitting the frickin turbo switch in a street racer.
Man, this woman was hot. No, she was sizzling.
Francine was in the fervid zone, committed to pounding out a post-divorce orgasm. She was hornier than she realised. She was way sluttier than she had intended. She was frickin enjoying herself in a way she could hardly remember. But boy, was she going to remember this.
No slow, tender or coy foreplay here. It was bawdy, bouncing bodily need. And our brunette wasn't considering decorum, as Nick quickly found out because he wasn't determining the situation in any way.
Our brunette tramp was off her cock and squeezed around Nick to reveal her shapely buttocks and parted pink lips to him as she was leaning over the seat, towards the dash, and urging the guy to stick his cock back into her.
"Fuck me. Give me your cock now," issued like a traffic cops direction.
Demanding compliance.
Nick was stabbing her deeply and rapidly. He had a semblance of control now, and boy, was this woman moaning.
She had the sweet, repeated "Mmm's' of satisfaction coursing between her open lips.
Man, was she wet.
God, was he in deep.
"Ooh, ooh, just like that! Yes, stab me deeper! Oh yeah, ooh, ooh, ooh!"
And her shaved perfection and the softness of her butt and thighs were driving him to piston fuck her. He was ready to fill the bitch with cum. That would appease the slut and give Nick a feeling he was on top of the situation.
That was until the skanky woman asked him to finger her butt while he was fucking her.
"Stick your fingers in my arse. Right up my butt crack now. Now, you prick," she insisted.
Well, the car sales guy spat on his fingers and jammed two digits into her quickly gaped arse with no soft introduction. It was lewd, but the bitch was thigh-shaking with the added pleasure.
The reverse positioning was incredible.
It was exquisitely satisfying.
The car salesman was as good as the friend of a friend suggested. Boy, did her pussy feel good. Her arse was just as pleased. She was orgasm ready.
But she needed more. Her body was craving more.
She had to push Nick back to release her body, and it wasn't an easy decision. Her body was crying out for cock to be reinserted into her immediately.
How dare her brain deny her body continuous ecstatic growing pleasure. But Francine had depths of delight planned for her test drive finale.
Her body wouldn't be denied. Her cunning brain was organising her body for slutty, dirty, grubby, mind-blowing sex.
Poor, confused, ball-bursting Nicholas was back under her, but she had her feet on the seat—petite feet in soft, stylish white slip-on shoes.
But his eyes were drawn to the gap between her legs spread over his tense cock.
Did Nick deserve her arse?
Does any guy deserve a woman's arse after just knowing each other for thirty minutes max?
Hell Yes.
It's there.
Arseholes loves cock as much as a coochie, and did Francine's arse need a cock: of course, it did; and she made sure it got it.
Fran wriggled and jiggled downwards in increments of growing filling pleasure. Nick prodded and jammed his pecker up in happy arsehole encirclement.
"Orrgh, yeah! Orrgh, stab me! Split me! Orrgh!"
What can be said: it was anal delight.
Hardcore filthy backside fossicking, rummaging and dredging.
Nick's fat rigid dick rammed Fran's gaped, sensitive crack.
Let's not be coy about this.
It was frickin fun.
It was frickin total satisfaction for the two.
It was an addictive pleasure in its sweeping, sweeping, sensual backdoor overload for the pair.
"Oh, you bastard, keep pushing, keep jamming your fucking fat cock into me…Mmm…Mmm…Mmm…Orrrhh…Orr …Orrrhh;" from our brunette.
Yes, it was that good. It was trashy, but she had never felt so happy to be an anal whore in her life.
Well, Francine had enough willpower not to ruin her dress with cum stains seeping out of her arse while still at the same time making sure she fully jigged herself with fast clit finger fondling heaven; before easing off Nick's dick.
She took his cock in her mouth.
Arching down over his body. Fran took his load in her mouth.
He came like a frickin exploding powder magazine.
And like the good Catholic girl she had been brought up to be, she swallowed the frickin lot in a couple of gulps and licked her lips in sweet satisfaction.
Then looked up at Nick and said: "Mmm, that was nice."
It was the least she could do: to leave the car clean.
Nicholas, catching his thoughts for the first time in several minutes, had to ask: "Why me and why here?"
"Oh, I thought," said the brunette, straightening her dress, "Don't you always do this with the ladies. The fake test drive and the sex on The Domain?"
"God, No," said Nicholas, and you could tell he was telling the truth, "I'm not complaining it was hot. You are one hot woman, but I still don't understand your sureness and intent."
"Oh, I was told by a friend whose friend said that you always did this."
Nick smiled and grinned, then said, "Look…um… could you tell your friend of a friend …that I do this…all the time?"
He didn't understand the brunette's broad smile.
Francine was thinking: Maybe she was starting a true urban legend.
"Sure," said Francine planting a kiss on his cheek as he zipped his cock away.
The drive back to the showroom was sedate and dignified.
Hell, they both had no energy for additional sex, and Nick was back in sales mode.
He was working out the best deal to clinch a hefty commission. He could sell her this demo model, and she certainly had memories to go with it.
At the same time, Fran was coochie happy, butthole zinging and scheming.
She already knew how to get a near zero-interest loan to own this car courtesy of her local lending agent.
All it was going to take was no panties and seizing another pair of balls.