In the workshop, still open late at night, the smell of oil and petrol mingles with the rising tension. The customer hasn't come just for his car. The mechanic, his overalls half-open to reveal a muscular, sludge-covered torso, is well aware of this. A glance, a wry smile, and the garage door slowly lowers: the guy falls to his knees between the tools, takes the mechanic's already hard cock in his mouth, swallows with a greed that makes the dominant's eyes shine. A few minutes later, he's bent over the workbench, overalls pulled down, lukewarm oil dripping down his loins. The mechanic coats him generously, then digs in with a deep, powerful, rhythmic stroke, as if he wanted to repair much more than just the bodywork. The workshop resounds with moans, the slap of skin and cold metal against burning skin. A very special, very consensual, very intense repair.
