What the Old Man at the Garage Asked Me for the Video

My name’s Marisol, and I’m twenty-one. I’m short, with a narrow waist, and what I like most about my body are my marked hips and a round, perky ass that gets attention whether I want it or not. My tits are small but standing up, with dark nipples that are always hard under my clothes. I’m telling you this so you understand why certain men look at me a certain way when I walk alone, with that look that strips you naked from head to toe.

What I’m about to tell you happened just a few weeks ago, in the middle of summer. I’m on break from college, and that afternoon in August I was running late for a remedial class. I live in a working-class neighborhood of small, neglected houses, and I have to walk several blocks to the bus stop. The midday sun was beating down like it wanted to melt the asphalt.

Two blocks from my house is Don Genaro’s mechanic shop, a man in his fifties, short, potbellied, very dark-skinned and very gray-haired. He had a reputation for being a lech with all the girls around there, so we always avoided him by crossing to the other side of the street.

That day, because I was in a hurry, I didn’t make sure to cross. It was just a few meters, I thought. Nothing was going to happen.

Right in front of his place there was a car with the hood open, being repaired. Don Genaro was sitting on a plastic chair, a towel over his lap and a tank top on. I assumed he had shorts on under the towel, but honestly I didn’t stop to think about it. I was in too much of a rush.

—Good afternoon, miss —I heard him say in that thick, sloppy voice.

—Good aft… —As I turned to look at him with a fake smile so I wouldn’t seem rude, he lifted one leg and rested his foot on the edge of the chair, like someone about to cut their toenails. At that instant I saw that he had nothing on under the towel. I saw it all fall between his legs, open and shameless: a thick brown cock, the fat head resting on a pair of heavy wrinkled balls, all of it tangled in gray hairs. I felt my eyes and mouth open at the same time.

I’m sure he noticed by the look of horror on my face. And I’m just as sure he did it on purpose, so I’d see it. I lost my step for a second, but I kept walking almost running.

Fucking filthy old man, why would he do that?

I spent the rest of the day with the same question running around in my head. The worst part was I couldn’t stop thinking about the image. Not because I liked it, but because I was furious and disgusted, I kept telling myself. But the image wouldn’t leave: the hanging cock, thick, waiting there like he’d shown it to me on purpose so it would stay in my head. And the bastard had done it.

***

When I got out of class, one of the teachers asked me to stay for a moment. She wanted to give me some papers for my mom. I was dying to go to the bathroom: in that heat I’d drunk liters of water. When she finally gave me the papers and I ran to the bathrooms, they were already locked.

I’m not going to make it home.

My best friend Daniela lived a few blocks away. I thought about making it to her house, but after just one block I knew I wasn’t going to make it. The situation was humiliating: I urgently needed a bathroom and there wasn’t one.

I passed Don Genaro’s shop again and saw him lying under the car, out on the street. Need beat out my pride and my anger. I walked over.

—Don Genaro, excuse me for bothering you, but I really need a bathroom urgently. Could I use yours for a few minutes, please?

—Of course, miss. Come on over, I’ll show you where it is right now. —He took me behind the house. The bathroom was made of boards, with a pit. You can imagine the smell.

—Is this the only one you have?

—You’ll have to excuse me, miss, but yes. It’s this or behind those pieces of scrap metal —he said mockingly.

—Okay, I’ll be out in a minute. —I said it so he’d go away, because I was about to burst.

—Oh, miss, you should know the door doesn’t close properly. I’m going to stay here so it won’t swing open, but don’t worry, I’ll make sure nobody sees you.

Dirty old pervert. Obviously he’s staying to watch whatever he can.

With no time left to argue, I figured the best thing was to do it fast and not give him the pleasure of having me there. I opened the door and saw the plank seat. The weird thing was that underneath, two boards were missing, and through that gap you could see everything from the back.

Stick to the plan: quick and I’m gone.

I bent forward from the waist and pulled my underwear down, taking care that nothing could be seen from the front, where he was. Then I heard a noise at the front of the door.

I’m not giving you the pleasure, old man. You’re not going to see me through the crack.

But then I saw a flash coming from the gap in the back. Then another. I didn’t understand what was happening. I grabbed some toilet paper and wiped as fast as I could. And while I was doing that, I felt something brush against my ass.

I jumped and screamed in fright. I thought it was a spider or some bug coming out of the pit. When I turned around, it was the most horrifying thing in my life: Don Genaro was crouched down by the gap, holding up his cell phone and filming my naked ass and open pussy dead-on, and with his other hand he had touched me. He was still recording and laughing, making sure my face came out clear in the video along with my cheeks.

—What the hell is wrong with you, Don Genaro? What the hell is wrong with you? Why did you do that?

—Oh, miss, you came here of your own free will for the service. I’m just charging you the price —he said, still laughing—. You have no idea what I’m going to do with this video and these photos. What a little ass, miss, what a delicious little ass you’ve got.

My blood ran cold. I was in the worst possible situation, and on top of that I’d gotten myself into it all by myself. That old man had recorded me from the worst imaginable angle, face visible, ass open, pussy on display.

I got dressed in a rush and ran out of there.

***

I thought about reporting him. With a video like that, that man would go to prison for years. But that meant half the neighborhood cops would see the material, and here men are what they are: it would leak and end up on the internet with my name and my face, with my pussy and ass exposed for the whole neighborhood to recognize.

I spent the whole night terrified, not knowing how to get that video back. In the end I decided to try to make a deal. I gathered all my savings, fifteen thousand pesos, and the next day, at nine in the morning, I went to his house.

I had to be very careful. If I made him angry, he wasn’t going to delete anything. I arrived calm and respectful. But when I saw him, he was sitting in the patio chair with his hand inside his shorts, moving it slowly. It was obvious he was jerking off. And I was sure he was doing it while watching my video.

—Good morning, Don Genaro.

—Well damn, what a surprise! The prettiest miss in the neighborhood comes to visit me —he said with a mocking smile, not taking his hand out of his shorts.

—We need to talk about yesterday.

—What happened yesterday? —he replied with a fake look of confusion, squeezing his cock over the fabric so I would see it.

—Don’t play dumb, please. We’re going to talk about this.

—All right, miss. First, what’s your name?

—Marisol.

—Nice to meet you, Marisol. —He pulled his hand out of his shorts with complete shamelessness, his fingers shining from all the stroking, and held it out to me. If I don’t shake it, he’ll notice I’m angry and everything will get worse. But touching that hand after seeing what he did with it makes me sick.

—Don Genaro, no, please.

—So you’re not going to shake my hand?

I was almost in tears. Since I knew exactly what my goal was, I decided to greet him. I raised my hand and took his, warm, sticky, smelling of his cock. I felt like vomiting.

—Now then, tell me, how can I help you? Or do you need the bathroom again? —he mocked.

—No. I came so you’d delete yesterday’s video and photos. Look, I know there are laws and if I were mean, I’d have already reported you —I raised my voice to calm him down—, but I’m not going to do that. This stays between you and me. I’ve got five thousand pesos here. I’ll give them to you, but delete everything right here.

—No, Marisol. It’s worth more to have that perfect ass on my phone. I’ve already gotten three good uses out of it this morning. I’ve jerked off three times watching your little ass and I still get hard just looking at it. I think it’ll last me a long time.

—I’ll give you ten thousand. Really, let’s make the deal.

—No. I already told you no.

—Fifteen thousand, I swear that’s all I have. —I started crying—. Please, I don’t have anything else.

Don Genaro stopped mocking me and put a hand on my shoulder.

—Look, Marisol, we’re going to do something.

—What?

—Let’s not play dumb. You know I like showing myself to the girls who pass by my shop. All of them so delicious, with those bodies, those asses, those tits, walking right past me. Every day I get hard watching them.

The bastard was being sincere, and that made it even more disgusting.

—Yes, Don Genaro, I already figured out what you like.

—Well look, easy. We’re going inside and you watch me jerk off in front of you. That’s it. You just sit there, watching me work myself until I come. And we delete everything.

—How could you think that? No, of course not. Take the money and let’s end this.

—It’s that or no deal.

Damned old man. He’s got me cornered. I hadn’t even gotten to the price, and the proposal disgusted me. I thought about it for several minutes, without stopping crying.

—You in, Marisol, or are you getting out of here?

—But I’m not going to get undressed or touch anything, right?

A perverse smile crossed his face.

—No. You don’t do anything except watch me jerk off. But you watch from the moment I start until I cum. That’s the rule. Until I finish coming.

—And you give me the phone so I can delete everything, right? Me, not you.

—That’s right. You just sit there, watching the milk come out of me.

The situation was indescribably disgusting, but I thought it was something I could endure. A few minutes of this were worth more than a lifetime of fear that my family or my friends might see that video.

—Fine. But I want your word that you’ll do it.

—You have it, Marisol. —That man’s smile couldn’t have been bigger. He was about to fulfill one of his fantasies: being examined in detail by a girl while he jerked off.

***

He got up and took me to his house, a wooden shack with a cardboard roof. He lived in total misery: one old narrow bed, a table with two chairs, nothing else. So small it would fit inside my bedroom.

—Come on in, Marisol. Sit here. —He put a chair at the foot of the bed. I sat down, nervous about what was coming.

He got onto the bed, took off his shirt, and pulled down his shorts. He was left in his underwear, with a thick twisted bulge pressed against the dirty fabric.

—Do you like what you see? —I didn’t answer. I said nothing and tried not to make any expression at all.

He lay back on the bed facing me and started taking off the last thing he had left. As his cock came out, it bounced heavily against his belly, hard, brown, with the fat purple head peeking out from under the pulled-back foreskin. His balls hung to the sides, wrinkled and large. The smell of a sweaty, unwashed man hit my nose and it was impossible not to make a disgusted face.

—Look how you’ve got me, here putting on a show for you. Look how hard I get just seeing you, Marisol. All this is for you.

His words made me cry again. I tried to hold it in, but the tears came on their own. He propped a pillow behind his back and stayed half-reclined, legs spread, about two meters from me. Right where I could see everything: the stiff cock, pointed toward the ceiling, throbbing on its own, and the heavy balls underneath.

—Do you like it? Say it or we stop here.

I had already gotten this far. If we stopped, he still won by having me like this. So I just nodded.

—Tell me.

—Yes, Don Genaro —I answered with all the disgust in the world.

—Yes, what? Say it properly, with the right words.

—Yes… yes, I like your cock, Don Genaro —I said, my voice breaking.

—That’s it, that’s how I like it.

He gave me instructions: look him straight in the eyes, watch how he touched himself. He licked his palm and grabbed the cock at the base, hard, and started stroking it slowly, pulling the foreskin up and down to leave the head fully exposed, purple, shiny. With his other hand he grabbed his balls, squeezed them, stretched them while staring me in the face.

—Watch closely, Marisol. Pay close attention to how a man jerks off. Look right here at the tip, see how the fluid’s already coming out.

And it was true. From the slit in the head a thick, clear drop started to come out, stretching downward. He rubbed it all over the head with his thumb to lubricate it, and the cock started shining all over. He got on all fours on the bed and showed me everything, revelling in it: the cock hanging between his legs, the squeezed balls, the hairy ass and dark cheeks. He grabbed one cheek with his left hand and with his right kept pulling his cock back between his legs so I could see it from another angle. The image was raw, rough, unpleasant.

My plan: get him worked up so he finishes fast and I can get out of here.

—Oh, Don Genaro, you look so good from here. What a thick cock you’ve got —I said in a fake voice, hoping he’d believe it. And he did: he had this incredulous look on his face he couldn’t hide.

—So you really do like it?

—Honestly, yes. I like what I’m seeing a lot. I like the way you jerk off, Don Genaro. Why don’t you keep touching yourself for me? I want to see you come. Go on, do me that favor.

The idiot believed me. He went back to the original position, spit in his hand, and started jerking faster, with his fist clenched tight. The skin went up and down over the head, faster and faster. I could see his face of pleasure, head thrown back, mouth open, eyes half-closed. His balls bounced with every stroke, sticking to his belly and falling back down.

—There, look, look how hard I get, Marisol. It’s rock hard for you, bitch. Just look how you’ve got me.

***

I swear I don’t know what happened. I don’t know if it was fear, disgust, or the dirty excitement the sight of his head was giving me, but I started feeling wet between my legs. I felt my pussy clench on its own, felt my panties slowly getting soaked. My nipples hardened under my blouse and rubbed against my bra. The old man hadn’t attacked me directly, and my own body was betraying me. He kept talking filthy, and little by little I was losing my revulsion at hearing him.

—Look how the fluid’s coming out of me, look how clear it is. Want to taste it? Come on, come suck it a little, Marisol.

—No. We had a deal. Keep doing what you’re doing, I like it better this way.

—Whatever you want. —I kept saying what he wanted to hear until he made me another offer—. Show me your tits and I won’t take a minute. Just your little tits, Marisol, come on.

The moment no longer seemed so disgusting, and honestly I just wanted it to be over. Without thinking much about it, I lifted my blouse and pulled down my bra, showing my small perky tits, with brown nipples hard as stones. His face changed completely. His cock jerked and started leaking even faster.

—Oh, damn, what little tits. Look at them, all perky. Spit on my cock, Marisol. I want to feel your spit on the tip.

The proposal, strangely, didn’t bother me. I didn’t have to touch anything, and maybe it would speed things up. I stood up with my tits out and got closer, keeping my distance. The scene was starting to stop disgusting me, and that’s when I confirmed I was wet. Not drenched, but more than usual for me. My pussy clenched on its own every time I watched the cock jump in his fist.

I gathered spit in my mouth and spat as much as I could right onto the purple head of the cock. It hit dead on and ran down the sides. He immediately rubbed it all over the cock, mixing it with the fluid he already had, and kept jerking harder. The bed creaked with the rhythm. He started moaning with his eyes closed, face twisted toward the ceiling. I was still standing at the edge of the bed, tits out, watching his hairy fist go up and down, watching the veins stand out on his cock, watching his balls start rising up against his body. An impulse made me bend down a little to see it up close. I just wanted to see it a little longer. Maybe, unconsciously, I was looking for the smell I’d complained so much about at first, because it no longer seemed unpleasant. That macho smell, strong, of sweaty cock, of balls, was sinking into my head in a way I couldn’t understand.

—You want to taste it, don’t you? —he commented, noticing how close I was without him having asked me to come nearer.

—No… no, Don Genaro, how could you think that. We had a deal.

—Don’t play dumb, Marisol. I know you want it and you’re looking at it with such a hunger it would be a sin not to let you grab it a little. Let’s do this: come closer, grab it just a little, come on. Just one little pull and I’ll come right away.

The deal, the way he dominated me, and almost fifteen minutes of the show had stirred something inside me. I felt my pussy throbbing, wet, tightening with dirty hunger. Maybe if I touch it a little it won’t be so bad. Maybe he’ll finish faster and I can go. After so many minutes, the idea no longer seemed so absurd.

—No, Don Genaro —I said, but not as firmly as before.

—Come on, you’ll see I’ll come fast. Just a little bit. Grab it, Marisol, just a little.

—But just a tiny bit. Swear it to me.

—I swear it, Marisol.

***

Slowly and continuously, I moved closer. I closed my right hand around the cock, afraid. It was hot, hotter than I’d expected, thick, so thick I could barely wrap my fingers around it. I felt it pulse against my palm, hard as iron but covered in soft skin. Don Genaro let out a long moan and sank back onto the pillow, eyes rolling white.

—Like that, like that, Marisol. Move it, move it slowly. Keep going.

I started stroking it slowly, pulling the foreskin up and down like I’d seen him do. The purple head appeared and disappeared between my fingers, oozing the clear fluid that smeared my hand. Why the hell doesn’t the bastard finish? Though honestly, I’m not having such a bad time anymore. I surprised myself by speeding up the rhythm out of curiosity, to see it shine more, to see it look thicker.

—Like that? You like that?

—I like it like that, bitch. Faster, Marisol, jerk it faster. Ah, what a nice little hand you’ve got.

I wanted to do something that might please him even more. With my other hand I started stroking his balls slowly, calmly, knowing it was a sensitive spot. I felt them heavy in my palm, hot, loaded. I squeezed them carefully and he writhed on the bed. Then I dared to go lower and ran a finger underneath, over the spot between his balls and his ass. His whole body tensed up.

—Don’t go too far, Marisol, that feels so good! What a little hand, bitch, what a little hand!

And there I accepted it, without denying it in my head: I was pleasing a depraved old man, jerking his cock with both hands, and no matter how wrong it was, I was enjoying it. I brought my face close and breathed in his sweaty-cock smell, with almost no hesitation left. That macho smell, strong, was sinking deep into me. I couldn’t stop getting wetter. I felt juice run down the inside of my thighs, soaking my panties, my little denim shorts. I closed my eyes, lost in something I didn’t recognize in myself. Without realizing it, I started pressing my thighs together to squeeze my pussy, looking for relief.

Don Genaro startled when he felt me so close, turned to look at me, but I was already lost in it, jerking him faster, watching the purple head from so close I could breathe the steam coming off it. I decided to keep going. I stuck out my tongue without thinking and gave the tip a quick lick, just to taste it. The flavor was salty, strong, indescribable. Instead of disgust, it made me want more.

—Aah, so good, so good, suck it a little, Marisol —he kept repeating, eyes rolling white.

And without knowing why, I opened my mouth and took the fat head between my lips. I felt its warm weight against my tongue, the taste of the fluid spread all over my mouth. I started sucking it slowly, my hand stroking the base at the same time. Don Genaro let out a howl and grabbed the bed.

—Marisol, bitch, like that, suck it like that! Just look, just look how you’re eating it!

My tongue moved on its own around the tip, sucking the fluid that wouldn’t stop coming. The cock was so thick it almost didn’t fit, and it hit my throat when I took it too far down. I started making noises with my mouth, dirty sounds of spit and cock, and I realized I was enjoying every sound. With my free hand I kept stroking his balls, feeling them tense more and more against his body. I didn’t even recognize myself: the decent girl who’d come begging for a video had disappeared, and in her place was a bitch sucking cock with her tits out, moaning softly because of how wet she was.

I kept going a few more minutes, sucking and jerking him at the same time, until I felt the cock get even harder and his balls clamp all the way up against his body. Don Genaro started trembling.

—Now, Marisol, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna… ah, bitch!

I felt the shot in the back of my mouth. Warm, thick, with a salty taste that’s hard to describe, intense. A thick stream hit my tongue and ran down my throat before I could react. I jerked back sharply.

—Oh, Don Genaro! —I shouted, my mouth full of cum.

More spurts came out and hit my face. There was so much. The first one hit my cheek, another my forehead, another my lips. Without thinking, I grabbed the cock with my hand and kept stroking it in front of my face, squeezing out the last drop. The spurts kept coming, smearing my eyes, my nose, my cheeks, the little tits I had exposed. I smeared the cum that fell on me with my own hand, without wanting to stop. My tongue came out on its own to lick what was left on my lips, and I swallowed what I had in my mouth almost without realizing it. I didn’t know when to stop, so I kept the same rhythm, squeezing the tip to get the last thick drops out, until the old man, legs trembling and panting, couldn’t take it anymore and pulled my hand away.

—Enough, enough, bitch, I can’t take it anymore. You got everything out of me.

According to his face, he’d had the best time of his life. He collapsed onto the pillow, his cock still hard and dripping onto his stomach, panting like he’d run a marathon. I stayed kneeling at the edge of the bed, face covered in semen, tits out and stained, and feeling my soaked pussy throb beneath my shorts. My heart was pounding in my ears.

—Don Genaro, we had a deal.

—Yes, Marisol, we had a deal. Here’s the phone, delete whatever you want.

***

When I checked it, I realized he had photos of other girls from the neighborhood, taken in secret when they passed in front of his house. I started by deleting mine and then all the ones I could, with his cum still smeared on my face.

—Don’t delete everything, don’t be a bitch. We agreed only yours.

—You’re a son of a bitch, Don Genaro. Now that you can’t fuck me over anymore, I’m telling you. You’re an idiot.

—Yes, Marisol, I know. But you’ve got this old man inside you, in your belly, and you’ll have to put up with that. You swallowed my cum, bitch. You’ll never forget it.

His comment bothered me, maybe because he had a point. I could feel the cum going down my throat, the taste still in my mouth, my pussy soaked under my clothes. I wiped my face as best I could with my hand and whatever I could find, tucked my tits back into my bra, and left there feeling his semen still sticky on my skin.

Since that day I take a longer route to get to the bus stop. I only have a little left before the semester ends and I can leave the memory of that old man behind.

I hope you liked this confession. It’s something that really happened to me and I’d never told anyone. Sometimes, at night, I think back to that afternoon, to the taste of that cock in my mouth, to the hot cum going down my throat, and without meaning to I end up with my hand between my legs, touching myself until I come thinking about that disgusting old man. My conscience always wins out after, but while it lasts, my pussy gets wet just like that afternoon. Leave me your comments and tell me if you want to read more of my experiences, because I’ve got several to tell.