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Warning: The tire will be the only thing flat!


Today started out as a good day. I landed an interview at that new tech company across town and I was feeling rather good in my pencil skirt. I finally lost those last few pounds and I feel great! I arrive promptly at 4pm and I am immediately escorted to a room that holds a small table and two chairs. I was feeling confident about this meeting until I realized that the security escort would stand behind my interviewer during our time. I suppose I should be impressed that she was a woman who had crossed the barrier into a male dominated career, but instead I was intimidated. My interviewer is slightly older, a distinguished man with salt and pepper hair.


He stood to greet me and I could tell that he was in good shape for someone with a desk job. A little flirting never hurt anyone and I tossed my hair as I shook my interviewers’ hand. Sitting across from him, I crossed my legs as I slid my chair under the table. I noticed security giving my legs a once over as she stood behind my interviewer who seemed numb from a day of meeting mindless interviewees. Clearly, he was just going through the motions as he asked my education and me about previous jobs. The guard continued to stare at me with such intensity that I felt like a schoolgirl in trouble. I started to shift in my seat, rubbing the chair against my thong. Perhaps a thong was not the best choice of undergarments, but it made me feel good  about myself. As we concluded the interview, I stood up, and with a little wiggle in my walk, I made my way to my vehicle to take my leave.


Once outside I noticed that my car had a flat tire. Looking around I can’t believe that there isn’t another vehicle in the visitor’s lot and I begin to go through a mental list of whom I can call for assistance. I try Doug but realize that I have no cell service – no doubt interference from the company. I make my way back to the visitor’s doors only to find them locked. This is a tech complex so there should be security cameras or a buzzer that someone is monitoring, but I am disappointed to see none of these things. I return to my car to take stock of the situation.


I have a spare tire so I can change the tire – people change flat tires all the time, right? They do, but not in a pencil skirt and blazer. Searching my car, I tell myself that things are starting to look up because I find a shirt and jeans. Standing in the open door of my car, I unbutton my shirt to change into something that I won’t mind getting dirty. I pull my arms out of my sleeves and I hear someone behind me. Startled, I turn around to see my interviewer. “Is everything alright?”


“Yes – err no. I have a flat tire, “I mumble as I notice him looking down at my breasts. The girls were looking rather good in my demi bra but I still turned to put on my other shirt. He grabs my arm, stopping me and says, “Perhaps I can help.” I look into his eyes, searching for a clue to help decipher what he meant by that statement. He is looking into my car and I follow his gaze to my Hipster Liberator Shape, which is sitting on the back seat. I look back at him and a small grin is now sitting on his lips.


Seems that there is some life in this man after all. I smile and put my free hand on the growing bulge between his legs, rubbing it lightly. A low moan escapes from him and he pulls me close. Releasing my wrist, he uses both hands to trace up my back, unclasping my bra. I step back, wobbly in my pumps, and my bra falls to the ground. He spins me around and stands close to me.


I can feel every inch of him pressed up against my back and I gasp at the size of his hard cock. My hand finds his pant and I unzip as he twists and tugs my nipples. He bends me over my Hipster while pulling my skirt up in one swift movement. My breasts rub against the velvety smooth cover of my Hipster, and I begin to squirm as his hands trace up my thighs. Pushing my thong aside, he can feel how wet I am as he pushes his fingers inside me. I gasp, holding my breath and think maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to wear my thong after all.


My body cradles to the height of my Hipster, putting my ass up high and in the perfect position for him to enter me. His pants fall to the ground and he leans in allowing me to feel every inch of him enter me as he reaches around to find my clit. Rubbing his fingers in a circular motion, I can’t help but wriggle beneath his touch and I can feel his reaction.


He slides his large cock in and out and I moan loudly as he begins to accelerate his motion back and forth, still curving his body to match mine. Liberator is right – the higher angles do allow for deeper penetration and I am close to climax. I scream from the intensity of my release and he pulls out, flipping me onto my back. Plunging back into me, I wrap my legs around him, pulling him in deeper. “Yes, yes, oh God YES,” he shouts from the open car door as he thrusts into me again. He groans and then time stands still with only our rapid breathing heard until I giggle at the thought of working under this man if I were to be hired.


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