“Pre-rinse?” He gasped, playing along. “I am spoiled.”
I uncapped it, letting him sniff the pink liquid. He nodded in approval and watched, amused, as I attached the bottle to the garden hose. I set the spray to a wide, gentle arch and turned on the water.
“Oh, gods.” Fox lay back across the windshield, enjoying the sensation of the rinse misting down onto his paint. I watched him, and he watched me back, his glowing eyes narrowed in bliss. I teased him with the thin blade of water, letting it roll over his wheels, and he arched his back, one hand sliding down his stomach and vanishing between his thighs. He knew exactly what he was doing—especially that little moan. My finger weakened on the trigger just for a second, letting the pressure drop.
Fox knew he had me. He was about to test my limits, his purring engine an invitation I couldn’t refuse.
“Hey, I’m not done yet,” I breathed.
“What? I’m not doing anything.” Fox’s wicked grinwidened as he toyed with himself, making sure I was watching. His shadow let just enough light through for me to see every detail of his sleek, narrow body, the shadow’s curves and angles matching the lines of the Fox Body Mustang, and I admired him openly, hungrily.
“If you keep this up, we aren’t going to make it to the foam cannon,” I warned him, knowing we weren’t even going to finish the pre-rinse.
“Save it,” Fox said, sitting up. “Wash me after we make a mess.” He pointed to a red bottle of oil waiting on the table. “Is that for me too?”
I turned off the water and handed him the bottle of synthetic 5W-30. I had been planning to change his oil tonight, but it seemed like Fox had other ideas. I watched curiously as he popped the cap and licked the rim of the bottle.
“You spoil me,” he purred, pouring the thick, golden oil into his palm. It melted into the shadow, a glossy sheen spreading out over him, leaving a coating of oil beneath him on the hood.
I watched, breath catching as Fox slipped down the hood and turned to press his chest to the metal, his oil-slicked hand between his thighs, legs spread for me to watch as he eased one shadowy finger into himself, then another.
My brain turned to static, a sensation I knew all too well. The blood was rushing away from the organ that could talk me out of my debauchery and straight down to the one that was ready to explore any and all new horizons.
Fox drew his fingers back, licking away the last of the oil with his long tongue. His legs were still spread for me.
I’ve used plenty of questionable things as lube before, and engine oil was definitely questionable. But there was something about the thick oil over glossy black paint that was utterly irresistible.
I took the bait. Tossing aside the water hose, I threw my shirt aside, popped the button on my jeans, and stepped outof them as I reached for Fox, my hand gliding over his ass, squeezing slowly. I was surprised by how firm and solid he was–my hands barely sank through the shadow anymore, only blurring around the edges where we touched.
Fox was hot, still pulsing with heat after the long drive. I pressed my hips against him to feel it, share it. My cock responded immediately, twitching, desperate for more.
But I still had some control, and I wanted to take my time with Fox, be thorough with him. I spent a few moments indulging in touching him, my tattooed hands sliding slowly over his back, his ass, his thighs. I savored Fox’s soft gasps when I circled his entrance with my finger, enjoying his impatience at my lazy pace.
Fox groaned, standing on the tips of his toes in offering, his greedy hole wet with oil, begging for me to use it. I couldn’t deny him completely, and I obliged; just one finger at first, savoring the feel of thick oil coating his insides. Then another finger followed, and a third, idly testing his tightness.
The engine revved below us.
“Patience.” I leaned close, pressing slow kisses down his back.
I will never get enough of how good he smelled.
“I’m not built for patience,” he protested weakly. I ignored him, taking my time, fucking him slowly with my fingers. The car shuddered as if the engine couldn’t get enough air before finally relaxing into a gentle idle. Fox didn’t seem to have a solid understanding of a human body’s limits; his shadowy imitation offered no protests as I sank in my last finger, my thumb tucked into my palm. I pushed fully into him, and he moaned in ecstasy, his tight hole squeezing my wrist, trying to pull me deeper, his stomach swollen with my fist.
“More,” he begged. “Fuck me properly; please, Al.”
“Greedy…” I laughed breathlessly, my cock throbbing as I slowly withdrew my hand, ignoring his gasped protests as I left him empty. It would only be for a moment.
I watched the dark oil glittering on my fingers; it clung to me, hot and slick.
It felt incredible.
I picked up the bottle, checking inside. Still almost full.
Fox looked back at me, the glow of his eyes stark against the dark windshield.
I was so fucking turned on that I didn’t even stop to think. I’d promised him a full service; I was going to give it to him. I grabbed the flexible plastic funnel off the table, pushing it into Fox’s ass; the narrow tip slipped effortlessly inside him, and Fox’s eyes widened as I poured the entire bottle into him in a slow, steady stream, pausing every few seconds to give him time to adjust or protest.
He didn’t need either; he wasn’t human, he didn’t have human limitations. I watched as the liquid disappeared into him and slid my hand under his stomach, feeling the swell of his belly against my oily fingers.
