Read Online Garage Gangbang - A Rough Reluctant Gangbang Sex Story by Mercy Faulk - Free Book Online
Authors: Mercy Faulk
Tags: rough sex, hardcore, anal sex, creampie, oral sex, gangbang, reluctant sex, reluctant gangbang, rough gangbang
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As I lay shivering in a puddle of bodily fluids on a filthy
concrete floor, cum leaking from every orifice and four men
standing over me, I wondered at how a simple thing like getting a
smog test could take such an unexpected and twisted
turn.
~ * ~ * ~
“ We’re so pleased you’ll be joining our team, Ms.
Meyers.” Mr. Jaimeson stood and came around his desk to shake my
hand. I flushed and let out a sigh of relief, which made me blush
even harder. The hand I’d put out to return his handshake flew to
my mouth in embarrassment.
He smiled good-naturedly.
“Don’t worry about it, Ginny. It’s a tough job market right now, so
I get it. We’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning,
right?”
“ Definitely!” I’d been out
of work for eight months, but somehow I’d managed to fool this
otherwise brilliant businessman into thinking I would make a good
assistant.
I turned to walk out of his
office but his next words stopped me in my tracks. “Oh, and don’t
forget to bring in your driver’s license, insurance and current
registration for your car. Human Resources will want copies for
their records.”
Glancing back over my
shoulder, I feigned curiosity rather than the panic that was
swelling inside my chest. “Sure. What do they need it
for?”
“ Well, since you’ll be
driving nearly every day for the job, they need it in case there’s
an accident or something. It’s pretty standard, really, at least
for a job that requires you to have a car.”
My heart started thudding.
The relief I’d felt just seconds before was swept away by a tidal
wave of fear. I stretched my lips into what I hoped looked like a
smile, nodded and choked out, “Okay.”
I’m surprised my wobbly
legs carried me to my car. Shaking fingers jimmied the key into the
lock and I barely got the door closed before tears started
streaming down my cheeks. I was going to lose this job before it
even started!
The latch on my glove box
had been sticking for a while, but a swift pound on the dashboard
popped it open. The contents spilled out onto the door, with a few
packets of mustard and a stray spork falling to the floor. I
rummaged around till I found the registration, which informed me
that, as I suspected, it had expired a week ago and, by the way, it
was time to get smogged.
“ Shit,” I whispered to the
dusty interior of my ancient ride. I’d owned the piece of shit
since high school, and it was a piece of shit back then. Three
years more years of abuse hadn’t magically improved it. My friends
called it ‘Banger’, and some of them refused to step foot inside,
claiming they might catch fleas.
It wasn’t that bad, but I couldn’t
afford anything better, especially after I’d lost my last
receptionist job when the company closed down. I’d been living on
my meager savings and credit cards, scraping just enough together
to keep a roof over my head, for the last several months. This
month’s rent was late, and I wasn’t sure where I’d find the money
for it, so paying $150 for a smog test and renewal wasn’t anywhere
near the top of my long list of bills that needed paying. My
insurance was current — barely — but now, according to the payment
schedule on the back of the form, a $75 late fee would be tacked
onto the final bill.
It was just my luck. I’d
just been hired for a great new job with a good salary, but it
required a car and mine wasn’t legal. When I read the job listing,
I’d assumed they wanted you to have a car so you could make it to
work every day. During the interview, Mr. Jaimeson had mentioned a
few errands I’d need to run, but he made it sound like they were
few and far between. I figured there would be a two-week training
period, and by then I’d get my first check and I could go get the
car smogged and registered.
I tipped my wrist to check
the time: 4:50. “Double shit!” Where would I find a testing
facility that would take me so late in the day? The bigger question
was,
concrete floor, cum leaking from every orifice and four men
standing over me, I wondered at how a simple thing like getting a
smog test could take such an unexpected and twisted
turn.
~ * ~ * ~
“ We’re so pleased you’ll be joining our team, Ms.
Meyers.” Mr. Jaimeson stood and came around his desk to shake my
hand. I flushed and let out a sigh of relief, which made me blush
even harder. The hand I’d put out to return his handshake flew to
my mouth in embarrassment.
He smiled good-naturedly.
“Don’t worry about it, Ginny. It’s a tough job market right now, so
I get it. We’ll see you bright and early tomorrow morning,
right?”
“ Definitely!” I’d been out
of work for eight months, but somehow I’d managed to fool this
otherwise brilliant businessman into thinking I would make a good
assistant.
I turned to walk out of his
office but his next words stopped me in my tracks. “Oh, and don’t
forget to bring in your driver’s license, insurance and current
registration for your car. Human Resources will want copies for
their records.”
Glancing back over my
shoulder, I feigned curiosity rather than the panic that was
swelling inside my chest. “Sure. What do they need it
for?”
“ Well, since you’ll be
driving nearly every day for the job, they need it in case there’s
an accident or something. It’s pretty standard, really, at least
for a job that requires you to have a car.”
My heart started thudding.
The relief I’d felt just seconds before was swept away by a tidal
wave of fear. I stretched my lips into what I hoped looked like a
smile, nodded and choked out, “Okay.”
I’m surprised my wobbly
legs carried me to my car. Shaking fingers jimmied the key into the
lock and I barely got the door closed before tears started
streaming down my cheeks. I was going to lose this job before it
even started!
The latch on my glove box
had been sticking for a while, but a swift pound on the dashboard
popped it open. The contents spilled out onto the door, with a few
packets of mustard and a stray spork falling to the floor. I
rummaged around till I found the registration, which informed me
that, as I suspected, it had expired a week ago and, by the way, it
was time to get smogged.
“ Shit,” I whispered to the
dusty interior of my ancient ride. I’d owned the piece of shit
since high school, and it was a piece of shit back then. Three
years more years of abuse hadn’t magically improved it. My friends
called it ‘Banger’, and some of them refused to step foot inside,
claiming they might catch fleas.
It wasn’t that bad, but I couldn’t
afford anything better, especially after I’d lost my last
receptionist job when the company closed down. I’d been living on
my meager savings and credit cards, scraping just enough together
to keep a roof over my head, for the last several months. This
month’s rent was late, and I wasn’t sure where I’d find the money
for it, so paying $150 for a smog test and renewal wasn’t anywhere
near the top of my long list of bills that needed paying. My
insurance was current — barely — but now, according to the payment
schedule on the back of the form, a $75 late fee would be tacked
onto the final bill.
It was just my luck. I’d
just been hired for a great new job with a good salary, but it
required a car and mine wasn’t legal. When I read the job listing,
I’d assumed they wanted you to have a car so you could make it to
work every day. During the interview, Mr. Jaimeson had mentioned a
few errands I’d need to run, but he made it sound like they were
few and far between. I figured there would be a two-week training
period, and by then I’d get my first check and I could go get the
car smogged and registered.
I tipped my wrist to check
the time: 4:50. “Double shit!” Where would I find a testing
facility that would take me so late in the day? The bigger question
was,
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