Chapter 7

The cashier and owner of Precision Auto contributed nothing of value with respect to finding Tom. Neither could remember anything exceptional about his setting foot in their garage. From Mike's worn look, I gathered they were either unwilling to cooperate or simply had no recollection of the event.

"We get a hundred-maybe two-cars per day," the owner remarked. "It's impossible to recall a single customer."

"How many bring Jaguars in for transmission work?"

The owner shrugged.

"What of the woman who accompanied him?" he bluffed without skipping a beat. "Tell me about her. I understand she was quite a knockout."

Their ignorance confounded Mike. They were allegedly clueless about the incident. The owner, however, thought to summon the backup cashier by phone. Unable to establish the exact date he brought the car in for repairs, he concluded that the other might be of some assistance.

I received the impression he would be of no use. I peered through the window connecting the office with the garage. Several mechanics were involved in various phases of repair. Gut instinct told me who was approachable. The young grease monkey, probably on his first job, seemed eager to please his employer. I placed my chips on him.

I slipped away, unnoticed. Mike flipped through their records while the owner tried alternate phone numbers. The cashier attended other customers. The coast was presumably clear.

I made my approach as inconspicuously as possible. Naturally, I was dressed in a short skirt with a low-cut blouse. My tits virtually hung out. My high heels clicked on the pavement. The crew, at regular intervals, glanced over their shoulders. The dreamy looks I amassed stroked my ego. I smirked, waving them off. That young pup was my target. I sensed their mounting envy of him.

"Excuse me," I addressed him in my sexiest voice, "but could you tell me who worked on that shiny red Jaguar?"

He seemed flattered to have been asked. "Fred. The guy over there." He courteously pointed him out for me.

I gave that dude a wink. "Thanks."

From a distance, Fred appeared to be a renegade. Tall, sandy-haired with amber-colored eyes, he instilled the notion of being difficult. I sensed a rugged strength about him along with a penchant for fast women and cold brew. His lanky form seemed indistinguishable in a mechanic's suit. He glared at me, as though unwilling to chat.

Tom's Jaguar gleamed. The garage must have had it polished upon completing its readjustments. "Did you happen to work on that car?" I asked, using the same lyrical tone.

He glanced at it, then nodded.

My high heels made their seductive click on the cement floor. By design, I bent over to examine the gleaming finish of the hood. I suspected that Fred jumped at the opportunity to check out my ass. I glanced inside, ascertaining that it was indeed Tom's prized possession. A square of white caught my eye. I opened the door and retrieved a business card. Without reading it, I slipped it into my pocket, then quietly closed the door.

Fred never left my side. He wasn't a conversationalist. I was prepared to use my feminine wiles to extract any obtainable information.

I leaned toward him and lowered my voice to a conspiratorial level. "Can we talk."

"I'm on duty."

"That's okay," I lied. "I cleared it with your boss. He assured me you would have a moment to share your observations. Where can we speak privately?"

"In there, I suppose." He gestured to a small room lined with shelves containing various auto parts. "Make it quick, lady. I'm on the clock."

"I don't mean to cause a disturbance," I said, sashaying in front of him. He-likely believed I was going to make a play for him. Though more concerned about obtaining an eyewitness account, I didn't eliminate the possibility from my mind. The man probably expected compensation for his time and knowledge.

Fred shuffled along, as though patiently humoring me. He seemed oblivious to his coworkers' pangs of jealousy. I perceived his resentment, or at the very least, a reluctance to cooperate. He wasn't, by any stretch, a pleasant individual. Arrogance was largely incorporated in his style.

I shut the door behind us. Fred leaned against the wall, fixing me with those amber-shaded pupils. He made no apologies for staring at my sumptuous cleavage. "Okay," he said, folding his arms, "let's make this quick. I've got six transmissions to complete before the end of the day."

"Did you meet the owner of that car?" He got cocky with me. "What if I did."

"He's my husband."

He grinned. It was my first glimpse of an emotion other than sourness. "And I suppose that chick was his secretary, huh? Lucky man."

My lips curved. "Ah. I take it you met Debbie."

"You know about her?"

"Enough," I lied. "Did they arrive together?"

Fred wiped the smirk from his face. "Hey, don't get me involved. If your husband is fucking around, it's none of my business. Why don't you hire a private investigator? You look like you could afford it."

"I could really use your help," I pressed, attempting to coax him with a smile. I hinted at a willingness to show my appreciation. My tits expanded within the confines of my blouse, promising unimagined delights.

He shook his head. "Sorry, doll. No can do."

Fred kidded himself if he assumed that I would simply drop the matter. I was prepared to go the limit in solving the mystery. Not only would I uncover the truth about Tom, but I'd please Mike. The latter seemed a more worthy pursuit.

I would have done anything for that man. I smoothed a hand over Fred's chest. "Did you know you're an attractive man?" Gradually, I explored lower territory. "In fact, you're downright appetizing."

Fred's jaw clenched. He gave no indication my advances were permissible. His prevailing silence translated into approval for my purposes.

I encountered solid muscle in my southbound journey. Either Fred was a natural athlete, or adhered to religious conditioning. Clasping the metal tag of his zipper, I slowly lowered it. Tanned, muscled flesh met my initial gaze. I further unlocked the metal teeth, hungry for an expanded view. My investigation revealed a powerful chest, marvelously defined, and an abdomen of superb network. The more I saw, the hungrier I got.

"Wow," I whispered, amazed at his nakedness beneath his uniform. "You ought to become a male stripper. I'm sure the women would snatch you up."

"What is it you want?" he growled behind clenched teeth. His fists were balled at his sides. "You didn't drag me in here for a quickie."

"That exists in the realm of possibility," I said, letting out my tongue. I slurped his smooth breast, then circled his nipple.

He flinched at my saliva application. His lips pulled back over white teeth. I listened to his sharp intake as I licked that hardened bud. Scanning his briefs, I peeked at what was in store for me. He popped a hard-on. I silently gasped at how much I was about to get. The man was a veritable horse.

I dipped into his briefs to retrieve his large cock. Commensurate with his height, it dwarfed my fist. Fred had a killer piece of equipment. I couldn't imagine having it inside me.

"You'd go this far for information?" he muttered, visibly stunned by my feathery touch.

I pulled on him. His cock moved through my fist. Fred was in delicious agony. I slid over the countless veins, alert to his dulled pupils. His mouth dropped open. He evoked a guttural sigh.

"You're going to tell me everything you know," I said, massaging him. "Don't spare a single detail."

Fred was in no shape to refuse me. In my hand rested his most treasured belonging. I wondered how many women had experienced its power. Fred didn't appear remotely shy about using it.

"As you were saying," I purred, fondling his unbendable cock. Fred was irrefutably hard, swollen to the extreme. He boasted a monstrous length. "My husband was with Debbie.

Describe her to me."

"I thought you knew her."

"I lied." I discerned his wild beat. His dick throbbed in my clasp. "Paint her from a man's perspective."

Fred roughly swallowed. The friction I engendered made speech difficult. He managed to invoke a picture of Debbie and convey it. "She's a gorgeous redhead, about your height. Big tits, nice ass, tiny waist. Sexy voice. Dazzling green eyes. Long legs-like yours."

I smiled. "Makes you wonder why he shopped around, eh?"

Fred studied my splendid cleavage when assenting. His mouth seemed to water at my rounded globes. I'm sure he would have liked nothing better than to bury his face in them.

"Did they arrive together, or did she pick him up?"

"Picked him up," he responded in a monotone fashion.

"Do you remember her car?"

"Sure do." My thumb went over the jutting rim of his cockhead. A bead of cum emerged at my provocation. His Adam's apple rippled when I flicked it. "A white Mercedes. Convertible."

Fred almost went mad, subjected to my tormenting inquisition. His cock burned in my grip. I could feel its heat climb against my sweaty palm.

"My husband routinely frequents this garage. Have you seen him and this woman prior to that day?"

Fred merely nodded. My grope excited him far too much.

"Debbie was usually with him?"

Fred trembled. "How about a few licks?"

I wasn't entirely inhuman in briefing him. Fred badly needed some measure of relief. I slithered around his cum slit, then slurped that gooey seepage. That salty residue instantly melted on my tongue.

Groaning, he sucked in air through his teeth. "More. Please. Lick it all over."

"Keep talking," I vowed, "and I'll drive you out of your mind."

"I saw her here with your husband only once," he mentioned, leaning into my face. Shaking, he sought my bubbly moisture. I bestowed him the barest amount, if only to maintain the stream of facts. Fred was willing to divulge particulars, providing I kept his dick wet. "Usually, she arrives with Mr. Majerski."

"Mr. Majerski, eh?" I traced the heavy vein that spanned his cock. "Is he a regular customer?"

"Sure is." Fred groaned, then tried to seize my head. He jerked his hips. "Put it in your mouth."

"Not yet." To counteract his surge of rebelliousness, I extended some alleviating slurps to his balls. My tongue slathered that taut skin.

"Oh, Christ," he muttered, defeated by that frothy development. "You give great head."

"You'll get some if you cooperate." I watched that hunky mechanic respond to my agonizing whips. "Who is Mr. Majerski?"

"I don't know. Some big shot who sporadically brings in a black Porsche. I usually work on it. The other guys are afraid to touch it. The man's fussy about the way it's handled."

Resting at that juncture, I pondered that statement. My wriggling tip left his saliva-drenched cock. I was somewhat confused. "Is Debbie his girl?"

"I never asked," he groaned. Fred was clearly unhappy with my sudden detachment. "I figured she was, until I saw her with your husband. Trust me, I never put my nose where it doesn't belong-particularly in marital disputes. You stay employed longer." He cupped the back of my head and tried guiding me to his suffering member. "Come on, baby. Finish."

He jabbed that monster in my face. His expectation was that I would swallow it. He powerfully tempted me. I liked working on huge men; they were such a challenge.

Besides, I rationalized, I couldn't very well leave him in a frustrated state. It would have been a heartless and unconscionable act.

I opened my mouth and accepted his plump cap. My lips rolled over its prominent border and my tongue circled his cum shoot before weaving my initial suck. Fred gasped as I drew upon him. I increased my intake, delivering on my promise. His male essence dominated my taste buds. Leaning against the wall, he barely muffled his groans. His thighs shook around my bobbing head.

"Oh yeah," he muttered, tracking my progress through slitted eyes. "Get it all in your mouth. Take me down that sweet throat. Let's see how much you swallow. I know I'm big, but try to handle it."

He stuffed me with cock. I couldn't talk with that beast plugging my face. At that instant, however, getting him to shoot was my objective. I had to get him off before Mike investigated. Catching me with some guy's dick in my mouth wouldn't have looked cool.

My lips inched down his stiff member, absorbing it in a fit of gasps and saliva. I lubricated him before gulping it. Fred's thing hit my roof, then swerved into my throat. His shaft eventually descended into my hot vacuum. His balls relaxed on my chin.

"I love receiving deep-throat," Fred declared. "Not many chicks can handle me." He closed his eyes and savored the thrill. "My dick feels great in there."

My lips reversed direction, winding to the top. I caressed his major vein with my lips and tongue. Fred answered my stunt with a mounting throb. Back and forth I went, gobbling him to the quick, then retracting. His chills and groans heightened as I took subsequent mouthfuls. I fondled his taut sac with my thumbs. His skin had a velvet consistency.

"Work on it, baby," he ordered, fucking my mouth. His balls slapped my face. The air went out of him as he speared the ring I formed. "Keep my dick wet."

"Mmmmmmmm," I hummed against that ferociously beating cock. Tightening my lips, I stifled the force of each thrust. Mike gyrated his hips, feeding me his monster shaft. He looked positively feral while I gorged myself. "Mmmmm."

His fists clenched and loosened. His shaking intensified. I could feel his joy spike. My snake-like tip expedited his gratification. His cheeks flared with color. His eyes moistened and grew dull.

"I want you to swallow my cum," he said, seconds before exploding. "I want you to eat it."

He muffled my agreement with each succeeding jab. I awaited his inundating gush.

Fred's eyes shut and his teeth clenched. An animal growl echoed through the room. "Arghh. Arghh."

His cumhole widened and a heavy torrent erupted. He hotly squirted on my tongue. I cupped his flexing buns while he fully discharged himself. His jism filled my cheeks, swirling around his spurting cock, before I downed it. I savored each gulp of his rich ejaculate.

After creaming in my face, Fred removed his dick. Sighing, he slumped against the wall and tried to regain his composure. He seemed unable to recapture his focus.

My fingers curled around his solid shaft. I extracted the last of his white stuff from the tip with an expert twist. Fred groaned as the excess dripped from his angry head before my tongue retrieved it. I immediately dispatched it.

"Christ," he muttered, trembling from my flickering whips. "Ahhhh."

I rejoined Mike just as he got off the phone with the other cashier. As I predicted, he drew a blank.

"Where were you?" he asked as we walked to his car. "I saw you talking to that mechanic."

"Performing my own investigation." He grinned. "You got him to talk, right?"

"He gave us a lead." I remembered the business card I found on the floor of Tom's car. Upon slipping it from my pocket, I let out a start. It read: Alan Majerski, Attorney at Law, with an address and phone number. The puzzle pieces began to fall into place. "I suggest we pay a visit to my husband's lawyer."

"Why?"

"I have a feeling he's responsible for Tom's disappearance."