The car had been the unintentional gift to me of my grandfather. When he died he left me some money in the confident hope, I think, that I would spend it on books or a study tour or something, but I had wanted the freedom of a car more and when I came home from university that summer in the Midget with all my belongings strewn over the car and tied on to the flimsy luggage rack on the boot, my parents were kind enough not to mention it after the first few days. The car had wire wheels which I had painstakingly polished, and it looked such fun glinting in the sunshine that Dad, at least, didn't need too much convincing.

However, it was unreliable. I got to know the local garage quite well over the next few months, and they kept it on the road for me without taking all my student grant. There was only one big bill, and Dad helped out with that on the basis that I was saving wear and tear on his car by having my own (that's what he told Mum, anyway).

One of the guys at the garage was Greg, and I must admit he was a bit hunky - big and dark-skinned, with bright blue eyes and an easy smile. He used to flirt with me whenever I came in, and I enjoyed it and gave as good as I got. He would leap down into the inspection pit as I walked up on the basis that 'the view was better from down there', and I would challenge him to tell me what colour my knickers were today. Once he waved an inspection lamp at me to get a better look and I got quite a surprise. I kept a couple of steps further away from the edge of the pit after that, but it was all good harmless fun. I think it kept the bills down, too! One day I would get even with him for that, but I hadn't yet worked out how.

Anyway, one day I collected the car after an oil change or something and we had our usual banter before I handed over another chunk of grant and headed off to town. I hadn't gone more than a couple of miles, though, when I became aware of a thick smell. When I stopped at the lights I could see smoke starting to appear from beneath the bonnet, so I turned round and headed back. Greg had once left a spanner inside the air filter, so I thought he'd stuffed up again.

The smell got worse and soon I could see the smoke even when I was moving, and I started to think that I should get out now. But I was on a busy road with nowhere to stop and a juggernaut on my tail, so I had to keep going or be mown down by a huge truck. 'Just a bit longer,' I kept telling myself, but I was getting frightened. At last I reached the turn-off, then I switched off the ignition and jumped out. The smoke didn't seem quite so bad now, and I was at the top of a hill so after a couple of minutes I climbed gingerly back in and let off the handbrake. Thanks to the hill I was able to coast all the way down into the small forecourt of the garage. The smoke started coming again on the way down, and by the time I got there it looked pretty awful. As I climbed out, spluttering a bit, I could see Greg rushing towards me with a fire extinguisher.

'What the hell have you done this time?' I yelled at him. 'Are you trying to kill me or something?'

He opened the bonnet gingerly, but there were no flames - just a sticky coating of oil over everything. It was all smoking off the exhaust and smelled awful.

'You've got a leak,' he said. 'You forgot to tighten something up, you mean,' I said, still angry and still a little scared. He shook his head. 'No, not that,' he said. 'Better have a look.' He produced a whole heap of old towels and wiped the worst off the engine, then wrapped a clean one around the steering wheel and pushed my poor little car forward over the pit. Clutching another bundle of towels he disappeared over the edge while I helped myself to the cup of coffee he'd obviously just made himself. I reckoned it was the least he could do for me.

I drank the coffee and felt better. I'd had a nasty fright and was actually a touch shaky, but I felt relieved. My pulse was racing and I was quite excited - it must have been the adrenaline rush. I'd get Greg for this, I thought.

'Aha,' came an echo-ey sound from the pit, and forgetting myself I walked over to the edge. No worry, Greg wasn't looking. 'You've got a hole in the hose here,' he said. 'Must have blown when I topped the oil up. Once you had the right amount in there, it couldn't take the pressure. Come and have a look.'

'Get in that disgusting pit? You've got to be kidding,' I said. While most of my student clothes could arguably be improved by a smear of grease here or there, I was wearing one of my few decent outfits today.

'I just want you to see it wasn't my fault,' he replied.

'Maybe I'll take your word for it.' On the other hand, maybe I wouldn't. A sudden idea popped into my mind - I would get my own back after all. I looked around. Greg's garage was unusually tidy, and he kept his day clothes hanging neatly in a little cupboard at the back. There was a spare hanger, so I slipped out of my trousers and peeled off my top, arranged them, then walked down the steps into the pit in just my underwear with all the confidence of my 20 years. After all, I did fancy him!

'Didn't trust me after all, eh,' said Greg, not turning. 'Well here's the hole, right here. Just have a look at - Jesus Christ!'

'I wasn't going to get my clothes dirty, was I? Now, what colour are they today, Greg?' He couldn't answer. 'Surely that lamp's strong enough? Or have you gone blind. Didn't your mother warn you about that?' His total confusion was all the revenge I needed. 'Now, show me that hole.'

Still speechless, he pointed to a piece of the hose he was holding below the engine. Sure enough it was frayed and there was a split in it, still oozing the thick amber engine oil. 'Looks like I owe you an apology, Greg,' I said. Then a great glob of engine oil fell from the suspension straight on to my nose.

That broke Greg's spell. He laughed, and I was quite annoyed. I wiped it off with my fingers and smeared it on his face. He brought up a great black hand and patted me on the cheek. I screeched and, wiping my hand along the edge of the pit, put a gob of grease on his face then smeared his neck too. He touched the wall as well and I couldn't get away from the muck that landed on my shoulder, so I twisted and wiped the rest of the stuff on my hands well into his nose. Greg grabbed my hands and pushed his face towards me, aiming to smear it back on me. I tilted my head back so he missed and I ended up instead with a black sticky streak just above my bra cup.

'Cheat!' I panted, as I wriggled a hand free and smeared him again, 'you've got a bigger target area.' 'More fun too,' he agreed, as I felt the imprint of a whole black hand on my ribs. 'Oh yeah?' I said. Grabbing a great handful, I planted it firmly on his crutch. 'Get your mother to wash that off!' I removed my hand, and sure enough there was a beautiful black print of outstretched fingers, thumb and my palm right across him. 'Not likely,' he gasped looking down, 'I'm keeping that as a trophy.'

'Where's mine then,' I asked, and I thrust my boobs out at him, daring him. He looked me in the eye for a moment, then he very deliberately planted one large greasy hand on each of my bra cups, pressing firmly against the flesh within. I pushed back, and when he removed his hands I had four thick black fingermarks running up the lemon material of my bra and staining the lacy top edge.

We were both silent, looking at each other and panting after the fight.

'This was a matching set,' I said at last, looking down. 'You'd better finish the job.' I took his wrist and pulled it downwards, and at the same time put my other arm around his neck. 'Only for God's sake this time put a little feeling into it.'

His large hand arrived flatly and firmly on my knickers at the same time as his mouth arrived firmly on mine, and I felt a leap of exultation as his long middle finger curled round beneath the bone and met my eager little clitoris. My tongue leapt into his open mouth and I gasped with joy at his touch as he slowly ran his finger back over that little knob of flesh. I felt for the zip on his overalls and pulled it down.

'Time to even things up,' I muttered as I pulled them off his shoulders and he shook them off his arms. Then I wiped my right hand as clean as I could on his nice white Y-fronts before I reached inside to free the trapped flesh.

The jerk he gave as I squeezed the tip drove his finger between my pussy lips and I jumped too. But the flimsy yellow knickers weren't going to keep me clean for long under that sort of pressure, and while I didn't mind being filthy on the outside I didn't fancy all that muck inside me, so I let go for of him a moment and slipped out of them. Then I unclipped my bra as well. Now I was naked, standing in that oily pit beneath my dripping car, and I was facing a very erect cock.

I put both arms round his neck again and we kissed as I pressed my mound hard against him. Our mouths were open and we tongued desperately, our filthy faces smeared against each other. I forced a hand between our bodies and cupped it around him. 'Come on, Greg,' I gasped. 'Do it to me.'

The bottom of the pit was as filthy as the sides but we threw the mixture of clean and dirty towels down and I arranged them quickly beneath me before I sat down and lay back, parting my legs for Greg as he followed me down. There was no foreplay, just an immediate thrust and I was filled with his cock as it slid easily inside me. My hands were on his shoulders as he held himself at arms length above me and I shuddered, half-grunting as he withdrew then filled me again. I locked my legs around him in a tight embrace and his buttocks rose and fell as he drove into me again and again, each delicious thrust pushing me hard against the concrete base of the pit, the towels absorbing nothing. I might be bruised afterwards but I wasn't complaining, caught almost literally between a rock and a hard place as his rigid cock hammered me against the unyielding concrete. This was rough raw sex and I wanted it this way, rejoiced in the hardness within me and the hardness outside. I started crying out with each thrust, my cries broken as I gulped for the air that was being driven out of me, and the noise seemed to excite Greg even more.

His movements got more erratic, and I had no control over what was happening to me. I was being soundly fucked and he was doing the fucking and that was all there was to it. I unclamped my legs and spread them wide, knees bent to allow him all the access I could. I took my right hand off his shoulders for a moment and slid it between us to part my lips for him so that as he buried himself in me the hard base of his cock would rub against my labia and his tight curly hair could rasp over my clitoris.

I'd done it for me but it took him over the edge, and I was now receiving the hardest banging of my life to date, all sound gone as I struggled to breathe beneath the onslaught. Then, suddenly, he gave an enormous heave and his penis seemed to lift my whole pelvis off the floor. I felt as if I was being split in two by this massive final thrust, then I felt the hot balm of his soothing cream pouring into me and I knew I could take it as he stayed rigid far up inside me. He withdrew for just a fraction of a second then it hit him again and this time I felt his cockhead expand within me before another hot burst shot into me. Three, four more times then his massive climax started to release him. But I wouldn't and I started moving under him.

'Don't stop now, Greg it's my turn and I'm so close. Come on, keep it going, fuck me Greg, fuck me fuck me,' and I moved my body and tightened my muscles around him. 'Don't go limp on me now, you've got to fuck me,' and his eyes opened and he looked down at me and he started to move again, a firmer rhythm now, more regular, and I was pushing back against him. I was wet and full of come and as he slid in and out of me I could feel our juices dribbling out of me and down between my thighs on to the filthy towels. I clenched my teeth in satisfaction as I thought this is what a good dirty fuck is about.

I was very wet but I was still tight enough to feel the shape of his cock moving within me, and as he fucked me he rippled up the muscles of my tunnel and rippled back down again. I slid my hand back down and rubbed my own clitoris to heighten my own selfish pleasure. Each gorgeous penetration lifted me higher until my breath was coming just in little short pants combined with tight little cries. I moved upon his erection quicker and quicker, my fingers adding my own urgency to his constant thrusts until finally I started crying out gently as my body took over, the jerks and spasms of an uncontrollable orgasm causing me to quiver and shudder on the end of his prick. There was no mercy for me, still being banged against the concrete by his relentless cock as I whimpered my way through my climax, and it was only when the last ripple had worked its way through my pussy and round his still firm flesh that he at last let up.

I looked up at the face above me, filthy with grease and oil now mingled with sweat, and knew my own must look just the same, and I thought I had just had a truly filthy and very satisfying fuck. Beyond Greg's body I could see the underside of my car, and the realisation that this animal act had taken place in such a disgusting and potentially public environment made me feel a great wild leap of excitement. It wasn't the first time I had got myself soundly fucked, but it was certainly the most wanton and disgraceful act of my life so far. Somehow, I knew it wouldn't be the last - and as you know, I'm glad to say it wasn't.

Greg and I spent a lot of that summer together, having fun and, of course, fucking. He wasn't the exhibitionist I had found myself to be, so I considered it to have been quite a feat to get him to take me in the pit, but we had a great time. He also completely re-built the engine of my MG, and along the way he taught me a bit about cars and lot about driving, so all in all I think I got a great bargain.

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