Jenny wiped grease from her hands and stared at the invoice on the workbench. Her boss, Mike, had offered her an extra two hundred a week if she wanted it. All she had to do was say yes to the deal. She needed new clothes bad, the kind that showed off her tits and ass instead of hiding them under old coveralls. The garage was empty except for the two of them, the air thick with motor oil and heat.
"You serious about that clothing budget?" she asked, leaning against the truck they had just finished.
Mike looked her up and down. "Dead serious. You spread those legs for me whenever I want, and the money's yours. No bullshit."
Jenny felt her pussy clench at the blunt offer. She had been thinking about it all day. "Right here?"
"Right fucking here." Mike stepped closer and grabbed her ass through the coveralls. "Take these off."
She unzipped the front and let the heavy fabric drop to her boots. Underneath she wore nothing but a thin tank top and panties. Her nipples were already hard. Mike yanked the tank over her head and squeezed her bare tits, thumbs rubbing the stiff peaks.
"These are getting used," he said. He pushed her panties down and ran two fingers straight between her pussy lips. "Already wet. You like the idea of getting paid to fuck."
Jenny spread her legs wider. "Just do it."
Mike freed his cock, thick and veined, already leaking. He bent her over the hood of the truck and rubbed the head against her slit. "Beg for the budget, Jenny."
"Give me the fucking money and shove it in," she said.
He slammed inside in one thrust. Jenny gasped as his cock stretched her open. Mike didn't wait.
He gripped her hips and pounded her, balls slapping her clit with every stroke. The truck rocked under them. Each time he bottomed out she felt the deal getting sealed.
"Fuck, your cunt's tight," he grunted. "Gonna use this every shift now."
Jenny pushed back to meet him. "Harder. Earn that two hundred."
Mike reached around and rubbed her clit in fast circles while he fucked her. Her orgasm hit fast, pussy squeezing his cock as she moaned loud enough to echo off the concrete walls. He kept going, driving through her climax until he pulled out and spun her around. He shoved her to her knees.
"Open." He fed his cock into her mouth, fucking her throat while she gagged and drooled. When he was close he pulled back and painted her tits with thick ropes of cum.
"First payment's done," he said, tucking himself away. "Clothing budget starts tomorrow."
Jenny stayed on her knees a minute, cum dripping down her chest, catching her breath. She wiped her mouth and smiled. "Same time tomorrow?"
Mike nodded. "And the day after. You're on the schedule now."
The next week she showed up in a short skirt and low-cut top that barely contained her tits. Mike bent her over the same truck the moment the last customer left. He flipped the skirt up, ripped her thong aside, and buried his cock in her again. This time he made her talk while he fucked her.
"Tell me how much you need the money," he ordered, pounding deep.
"Need it bad," she panted. "Need you to fuck me for it every day."
He came inside her that time, filling her pussy until it leaked down her thighs. Jenny left with another two hundred and a promise to wear even less the next shift.
By the end of the month the garage had become their fuck spot. Mornings she sucked him off under the workbench while he counted cash for her. Afternoons he bent her over engines, over tool chests, against the wall. He took her ass one Friday after hours, working lube into her hole before sinking his cock in slow and steady. Jenny came twice with his fingers on her clit and his cock stretching her ass open.
She bought new clothes every week. Tight jeans that hugged her ass. Crop tops that showed underboob. Tiny panties that Mike tore off her more often than not. The money kept coming and so did she, bent over whatever surface was handy while Mike used her.
One slow Tuesday he sat her on the hood with her legs spread wide. He ate her pussy until she was shaking, then stood up and drove into her again. "This budget's permanent now," he told her between thrusts. "As long as you keep this cunt available."
Jenny locked her ankles behind his back. "It's yours. Fuck it whenever you want."
He came deep, grinding against her until every drop was inside. Jenny left that day in a new leather skirt and no panties, two hundred dollars richer and already wet thinking about the next time.
The arrangement never changed. She worked the garage, he worked her body, and the clothing budget kept her looking like the kind of girl who got fucked for cash. Every time the garage door rolled down she knew exactly what came next.
