He Paid For My Nails, I Fucked Him

"Hmm, I'm not sure which colour to go for today," I look at the colour chart hoping that I might stray away from my usual muted nudes.

"Why don't you do red today?" my nail tech queries. Rolling his eyes at my indecisiveness.

I don't usually go to this nail shop. In fact, I'm only here because I have two hours and a dinner to get to.

Looking away from the chart for a moment to assess the shape. Eurgh. They're too fucking pointy.

"Sorry, do you mind rounding off the top. It's too pointy," I say in an apologetic tone.

Outside the traffic hums. It's not a main road, but it is where a lot of cars pass because of the garage situated on the right of the nail shop.

The nail tech looks up, in prayer? In frustration? I don't know what. But he does round the tips off.

I look out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of the mechanic that I've been crushing on for a while. To be frank, I hate him. Since January, when he fixed my car and he asked for my number (not for pleasure, but to let me know the car was ready to collect) (but, yes one day I got drunk and decided to text him and we spoke for AGES! Then one night he left me on read and since then I try and find every excuse to message him.) He breadcrumbs me, leaves me on read and quite frankly won't even take me on a date.

The truth of the matter is, he's a handsome man who cat-calls me whenever I walk by. Engages in flirty banter when he's in the mood. Also, I suspect he might still be married despite him telling me he is divorced. Something ain't right...

"Darling, you choose the colour?" he repeats again. I look away from the window, the sun now threatening to hide.

"Yes, Urm. I'll just do red." I don't bother looking. I'll have them redone in a week when I can get to my regular spot.

Focusing on the colour chart. I direct my nose to 'Bloodline #112'. He makes an approving grunt and I go back to window watching.

"URM EXCUSE ME. WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING MISSY?" A loud, recognisable voice breaks the sensibility of the nail salon.

I turn, shocked at the mechanic inside this small space. His large frame hovering over my chair, his face to my left, looking at my nails.

"What is wrong with you? Can you not see I'm getting my nails done and you're disturbing my peace." I counter. Trying to hide my excited shock.

"Well how dare you come here and not even come by to say hello to me?" His hand grips the back of my chair and now I look up into his eyes.

"I'll come by once I'm done. Okay?" I rasp my voice, attempting to bring the down the urgent masculine energy which has invaded this cute place.

"You come by as soon as your done." He rubs my shoulders. It feels so good. His hands on me.

He then looks away from me and at the nail tech, "How much are her nails?" I look up at him again, quickly. Fuck, I think I gave myself a concussion.

"She's doing pedicure too. Total is £100." I watch the nail tech and he's rolling his eyes and his blonde fringe flapping as he shakes his head in disapproval. I feel so bad.

"Haris go now. You're starting to piss people off," I try and usher him out with my words.

He just smiles at me. "Haris..." I moan.

This beautiful man with his tanned skinned, perfect beard and cheeky smile reaches for the back of his jeans. Taking out his wallet, he unveils a thick wad of cash. Haris puts down £105 on the table and then steals the chart away pointing at Angel Tears #212. A beautiful pearlescent shade, and something I'd get regularly.

"For her hands and toes. That colour. Come by when you're done to show me." Wallet secured back in his pocket, he gently grabs the back of neck forcing me to tilt my head up. My large eyes boring into his small, fox-like ones; and places a kiss on my forehead. Haris walks out.

"Darling, he likes you," the nail tech laughs.

"No I don't think so, but I do think he's after something else." We both laugh at this.

Within forty-five minutes I'm done. I feel like a fairy with the slight shimmer on my hands and feet. I've got to give it to him, the colour choice was great. I contemplate whether to ignore his demand and just go home, but I can't just let him pay for my nails.

You could, he's caused you so much stress in the last four months. This is your reparation. The Angel on my shoulder reassures me.

Oh but, give him his money back at least. Then you don't owe him anything. This is the Devil. I'm sure of it. I listen to the latter.

Haris is in the office and I walk in without knocking.

"Your money back. You didn't need to do that," I say. Slamming the money down and turning around to leave.

"YO Shah, shut this door please. I need to sort some business with this troublemaker." His colleague listens and closes the door.

"I should go," I continue.

He gets up. Ignoring me. Grabs my hand and surveys what he's paid for. Haris nods in approval and then lifts me up and instinctively I wrap my legs around his waist. I'm in shock to speak. To act.

Placing me on the desk, he takes a seat in his office chair, lifting my legs so that one is against his toned chest and the other over his shoulder. After he swaps them out, I try and usher myself off the table and away from him; but he only brings me in closer to him.

Using the neck of my vest he lowers me down to his level (metaphorically too). His mouth is so close to mine and I want to close the distance. But he'll leave me after this. The intrusive thought pops into my mind.

What if you leave him? True. What if after all of this, I leave him?

I break. I kiss him first.

It's that kind of kiss where it's hot and desperate. Our tongues battling for dominance and none of us are willing to give in. His tongue twirls ever so slightly against mine and I moan into his mouth. Haris likes an open-mouth kiss and so do I. Heady.

He releases me and pushes me flat on the desk. Rolling his chair in closer to the desk, he pushes my shorts to the side, revealing my bare pussy.

"Har-- Someone might walk in," I gasp.

"Let them," he grumbles against the inside of my thigh. Kissing me and licking closely. His tongue drawing shapes along the seam of my pussy.

I let out a desperate moan as I spread my legs wide, hoping he understands my invitation for his tongue to slip in-between. He obliges and pushes his index finger inside of me, ultimately opening me up for his cock.

It's a soft motion, a 'come here' he does with his finger. While his tongue flattens against my clit, using the tip to flex and point over my sensitive spot. "Haris," I croon attempting to remain as silent as I can, whilst his colleagues and customers conduct business outside.

The dull lighting of the office shrouds my open-mouthed groaning as I let him pick up the pace with his fingering. "Want another?" he asks, barely inching away.

"Yes,"

"Yes, what?"

"PLEASE!" I shout, needing more of this from him. A middle finger also enters me, widening me up and I'm not sure I can take him flexing the tip of his tongue on clit because I will come undone. However, true to Haris he is also after his own pleasure. He removes his fingers from inside of me.

Getting up from the chair, he leans over me. Fingers still pressuring the canons within me to explode. His mouth finds mine again and this time I taste myself. Sucking on his tongue, I regurgitate my own essence back into me. His throaty moan, encourages me as I break the kiss.

"Go on then," I taunt.

"Good," he retorts.

Haris unzips himself in record timing. Jeez if only he was that quick when responding to my messages.

I don't get a chance to look at his cock, but his tip feels thick. He coats his cock in my juices as he slides up and down.

"Mmmm you are so fucking hot," he mumbles, staring at how his cock moves along my slit.

"So are you," I coo back.

He laughs. It's husky and horny. Slipping inside of me, we both make a mutual sound of approval. Enjoying the toxicity of this moment. Of something I should have never done. However, his expert tongue and the taboo of the situation makes this fuck even more exhilarating.

His cock isn't long, its thick and it stretches me out. I've not had this width inside of me before and I close my eyes, trying to accommodate him. He understands my disposition and spits on his cock attempting to lubricate the pain away.

"3 slow strokes and then I can't stop myself," he promises.

"Yes," is all I can say. My eyes rolling back.

He's so slow at first and it feels like he is making love to me. But I'm quick to forget that as the fourth thrust is hard and unforgiving. I've forgotten about the clanging of the spanners, engines roaring and customers bartering outside as he fucks me hard. My body moving violently on top of the desk as I am being filled by his thickness.

His large hands grip the underside of my thighs to hold me in place whilst he destroys me. He pops out of me from the sheer fluid we are creating. Haris grabs my neck and presses lightly, the jolt of his cock pushing in and out of me coupled with the dizzying feeling sending me over the edge and I orgasm hard.

My legs attempting to close around him whilst he continues his onslaught inside of me. My screams loud, everyone outside can definitely hear me. The spasms encourage his own finish as he comes inside of me. Exploding his seed along the walls of my cervix.

Haris pulls out and a dribble zig-zags on my opening. It's the same colour as my nails. Weirdly, once he finishes we both laugh out loud. I'm not sure why he does, but for me I think its the closure I needed. I fucked this man because I wanted to and I don't feel any attachment.

It's freeing.

Haris, wipes me clean. Watching me as I adjust myself.

"You know this could be a regular thing," he mutters.

"You know what, let me bring the car in for an MOT and see where we go from there."

I walk out of the door.