Fran's Fender Bender

After 18-year-old Fran backs into 41-year-old Marvin's parked car, she suggests paying part of the repair bill with sexual favors. Marvin accepts that plan!

In the spring of 1984, I, Marvin Meadows, was 41 years old. I was sitting in my parked car near the end of a dead-end street. It was a Saturday morning in May. I was employed as an insurance agent and I was conducting business in the neighborhood. I had parked my compact car near the home of a longtime client whose policies I had just reviewed and updated for him. I was arranging some documents in my briefcase and was just about to fasten my seatbelt and head home when my car received a heck of a jolt.

The driver of a car from the home that was situated two doors from my client’s house had backed out of her driveway without looking. Because her house was only about 60 yards from the end of a dead-end street, I supposed she was not used to looking for oncoming traffic or parked cars when she entered the public thoroughfare. I figured she had basically gotten into the bad habit of backing out of her driveway blindly. She had probably done that dozens of times before, but this time her carelessness caused an accident.

I looked up to see the horrified face of a pretty young lady. She knew the accident was entirely her fault and did not try to hide that fact. (Hey, how could it not be her fault when she struck a parked vehicle?) Her mother had witnessed the accident and came running out of the house to check on me, my car, the daughter’s car—and to give her a tongue-lashing for being so careless.

“Fran!” she shouted at the girl who couldn’t have been 20 years old, “Dammit, I told you it’s important to keep your eyes on what you’re doing when you’re backing out of the driveway! This is a quiet street, but sometimes there are other cars here—as you just found out!”

“I’m so sorry, Mom!” the girl replied. She was horribly upset and contrite; I could tell she was on the verge of crying.

The mother turned to me and explained, “My daughter has only had her driver’s license for 11 or 12 days. I tried to warn her to always be careful when she’s behind the steering wheel, but sometimes you have to learn lessons the hard way.” She inquired about my health as did Fran. (I was completely uninjured.) Fran apologized, too. “I didn’t mean to do it; it was an accident.”

“That’s obvious. No one ever intends to have an automobile accident,” I told her in a reassuring voice. “I ought to know. I sell insurance for a living.”

“I bet my auto insurance is going to go through the roof for causing an accident such a short time after I got my license.”

“Perhaps,” I noted. “From plenty of experience, I can tell you there are some ways of settling cases like this without the insurance company ever knowing an accident occurred. That way your premium won’t be affected at all!”

“Really?” Fran said with an optimistic tone. “I hope so, because I’m financially on the hook for all this. Mom said even though it’s her car I’m driving, I would be responsible for any accidents I caused on the road.”

“You better believe it!” her mother chimed in.

My car had suffered some damage around the left headlight from the mishap, but it was still drivable in the daylight. I figured it was about a $400 repair in 1984. I told Fran and her mother my estimate, saying it was only a ballpark figure. I also got around to introducing myself to them. They were pleasant and polite, given the unfortunate circumstances leading to our meeting. They told me their last name was Cleveland. I told them I would take my car to a close friend of mine who was in the auto body business. He would make the repair without notifying anyone else.

“Of course, Fran will pay the repair bill!” her mother stated.

“Yes, I will, Mom,” Fran concurred. “The cost might bankrupt me, but I’ll pay for everything.” I jotted down their home phone number and went immediately to the auto body shop located across town.

As it turned out, I had slightly underestimated the damage Fran had inflicted on my car with her carelessness. It was closer to $485. There was also the cost of a rental car for a day while my vehicle was being repaired, plus various sundry expenses. When I phoned Mrs. Cleveland to give her the news, she insisted that Fran pay me $600 so every expense I incurred would definitely be covered, and, as she put it, "to teach my careless daughter the value of money."

Fran telephoned me later that day when her mother was out of the house. "Marvin," she said, "I understand that I owe you $600 to get your car completely fixed plus the cost of other expenses. If that's what it is, so be it. At the moment I only have a little more than $300 available in my mad money that I can spend on what I like. Mom thinks I have ten times that amount, but she doesn’t monitor my spending habits. I'd like to work out a gradual payment system with you, if you are agreeable to that."

I thought Fran was handling the situation quite well for someone her young age. I felt somewhat sorry for her, so I said that small payments remitted to me at regular intervals would be absolutely fine. Had it been an adult male whose car had whacked mine, I would have insisted on immediate payment in full.

Then something totally unexpected occurred. Fran lowered her voice considerably when she suggested a more sordid variation of gradual payments to me. "That's not exactly the type of payment system I had in mind, Marvin" she told me. "I was thinking of paying my debt to you with sex."

I was stunned for a moment before I replied, "Fran, I'm not sure I heard what you just said. Could you repeat that last sentence for me, please?"

"I think you heard me correctly, Marvin," she insisted. "I'll make up the $300 shortfall by having sex with you as often as it takes to make us even. I'm 18 years old. I’m sexually active with my boyfriend, Brian. My mother thinks I'm a virgin, but I like having sex, I enjoy it, I have it as often as I can, and I'm told I'm good at it. Having sex with you to pay off this debt would not bother me at all. In fact, I think I'd likely enjoy it, Marvin. To me, you seem like a nice, kind older man. I've never screwed anyone over the age of 22 before, but I think I'd enjoy a fuck or several with you. What do you say to that, Marvin?"

"What would Brian think of this idea of yours?" was the first thing that came to mind and out of my mouth. I didn't want some young hothead gunning for me for bedding his girlfriend in lieu of a car-repair debt.

Fran was quick to reply. "I simply won't tell him about it,” she stated. "Anyway, I don't think he'd care too much if he did know I was fucking you. We have an open relationship about sex. We each sleep around if we feel like it. I know Brian feels like doing it a lot!"

"That's very liberal-minded of you," I said. (It was the best euphemism for "slutty" that I could come up with at a moment's notice.) I continued, "I figure a good fuck is worth $100 to me, so along with the $300 in cash you're going to pay me, three fucks with you will eliminate your debt to me, Fran. Does that arrangement seem reasonable to you?"

"Oh, sure," she said without much thought. "Three fucks it is. No problem. When do you want the first one?"

I thought about that question for just a second or two before I answered, "Fran, tomorrow I'm meeting an insurance client at the Empire Hotel downtown. He's from out of town, but that's where he’s staying for the next couple of days. I am told this hotel offers hourly room rates. I'll meet you in the hotel’s lobby around 3 p.m. after I'm finished doing my insurance business with him, and then I’ll get us a room. Okay?"

"That sounds absolutely perfect, Marvin," Fran replied. "I'll figure on staying for three hours. Do you think three hours will be enough time for our first fuck?"

I was a 41-year-old bachelor with no present “significant other” in my life. I managed not to laugh. I’d be reveling in three hours of fucking a pretty 18-year-old for the equivalent of $100—with two more similar screwing sessions to follow! I was absolutely thrilled by it all. "Yeah, that seems like a fair estimate, Fran," I deadpanned. "I'll think I’ll go ahead and book us a cozy room from 3 to 6 o'clock tomorrow. I'll do it right now before I forget. I’ll see you then. I'm definitely looking forward to it."

Part Two

On Sunday I was finished with my client around 2:30 p.m. I took my insurance paraphernalia out to my car—it was the rental I still had. Once that was done, I returned to the hotel lobby where I anxiously sat in a comfy, plush chair. There, I eagerly waited for my promiscuous 18-year-old bedmate to arrive. I had some lingering doubts about whether Fran would actually show up as planned, but she was true to her word. Fran entered the hotel at 2:52 p.m. according to the digital clock located behind the front desk. She spotted me and I waved her toward the elevator. I was dangling the key to Room 612 in my right hand.

When the elevator door opened, Fran immediately handed me an envelope containing six $50 bills to pay the cash portion of her debt to me. Of course, I was looking forward to the other form of payment that was forthcoming. Until that point, I hadn’t really seen what Fran looked like. The aftermath of a traffic accident, even a minor fender-bender like ours, is always chaotic. Even so, I knew Fran was at least average looking. I was in for a pleasant surprise.

On the day of the accident, Fran was clad in faded blue jeans and a bulky sweatshirt bearing the logo of Stanford University. Today she had significantly upgraded her wardrobe. She was wearing a tight-fitting, light-yellow blouse; a pleated red skirt; panty hose; and shoes that artificially elevated her height to about 5’8”. (When Fran was wearing sneakers the day before, she was closer to 5’6”.) Fran possessed natural auburn hair that was quite becoming despite it being completely devoid of any curls. I liked what I saw and told her so. “Brian is a lucky fellow to have you as a girlfriend,” I said sincerely. “When I was in high school in the late 1950s and early 1960s, there was no girl whom I can recall who looked quite as attractive as you do right now.”

“What a lovely compliment, Marvin! Thank you for saying that!” Fran stated. She followed that up with a playful peck on my right cheek. She coyly added, “My kisses—and other things—will improve once we get to the hotel room.” I did not doubt that in the slightest!

The elevator door opened and we had to walk about 30 feet to find Room 612. I quickly discovered that the rooms this hotel rented for short periods of time lacked the luxuries that my client’s regular room had, but Fran and I weren’t present there to enjoy its amenities or décor. To my amusement and amazement, Fran immediately took charge of our romp. She basically ordered me to sit quietly at the end of the bed so she could perform a sexy and prolonged striptease for my entertainment and arousal. I was a captive audience of one as she peeled off her clothing like a pro. I was sporting a strong erection by the time Fran was down to her bra and panties. The former was white; the latter were a bright shade of red. Damn! She looked fabulous to me!

“I need to get into more minor traffic accidents,” I joked. My comment caused Fran to smile but did not interrupt the show. Off came the bra which she dropped to the floor. Her panties were discarded next. She flung them toward the bed. Nude girls were always appealing to my eyes, but Fran was a real looker. On a scale of one to ten in beauty, Fran rated a solid nine—perhaps a score of 9.5 was deserved.

I stood and I was about to disrobe. My erection was becoming uncomfortable while it was confined to my trousers. Fran stopped me. “Let me do that for you, Marvin. I like undressing my sex partners. It’s all part of the foreplay and fun of sex. Don’t deprive me of that!”

“Heaven forbid I’d do such a thing!” I replied with a smile. I stopped instantly and allowed Fran to have the pleasure of removing every stitch of clothing I was wearing, including my wristwatch. I was standing naked before this lovely teen goddess, who promptly assumed a kneeling position to give me a blowjob. I already knew she’d be good at it. “You have a pretty penis, Marvin. Let me get it as hard as possible for our fuck.” Fran’s comment didn’t require a response, so I just nodded my agreement to that plan. Fran had obviously done this sex act more than a few times in her young life. She was superb with her tongue. I especially liked when Fran focused on my dick’s head, particularly the opening at the very top. Few girls recognize how wonderful it feels for a typical adult male to be orally stimulated on that precise spot.

“I have to return the favor,” I contentedly said to Fran when my penis became as hard as it could possibly be. “Get onto the bed, Fran, and spread your legs. I want to lick your beautiful, teenage pussy for all its worth!”

I desperately wanted to please this girl to the best of my abilities and make her think I was 21 instead of 41. I’d say I was highly successful. Fran squealed with delight when my tongue tickled her clit and went up and down the rest of her vagina. Her squirming aroused me greatly. “You do this better than anyone I’ve ever gone to bed with, Marvin!” she gushed. That was a compliment I’d never heard before. I really didn’t know if she was being sincere or lying through her teeth. Honestly, I didn’t care. I enjoyed the wonderful praise—even if Fran was fibbing with me.

Fran told me, “If your tongue feels that good down there, I can’t wait to find out what your dick feels like in the same place, Marvin. I suspect it will be fabulous.”

“In that case, I guess it would be rude to make you wait any longer, wouldn’t it?” I responded and quickly mounted this lovely creature. Her hairy pussy felt like home to me—a comfortable place where my manhood belonged and should be. I was merrily ramming it for five or six minutes when Fran told me. “Don’t come inside me, Marvin. I’ve taken the proper precautions, but I really like it when my boyfriends shoot their stuff all over me. I mean I really like it! I can’t stress that enough. It’s beyond sexy!”
That presented no problem to me whatsoever. I had become enthralled by Fran’s beautiful breasts. They were the type that had areolas that rose prominently from the base, giving them a two-tiered appearance. I hadn’t seen a pair up close quite this good in my life. I was eager to comply with any request Fran might make, so I declared, “Since you feel so strongly about it, Fran, and your tits are completely gorgeous, I’ll give them a good fucking and come all over your face!”

“Do it!” was her pithy reply.

Fran propped herself up using some pillows. I repositioned myself so I was straddling Fran’s torso. I laid my throbbing dick between her goodies. Fran squeezed her tits together and I moved my dick slowly up and down. Of course I fondled those exceptional areolas with my thumbs. Within two minutes I could feel sizable pressure mounting in my testicles. I knew a geyser of cum was imminent.

“Here we go!” I shouted instead of “Here I come!” but Fran knew what to expect. Gobs of white goo struck the underside of her chin. I grabbed my shaft to aim subsequent ropes directly at her pretty face. Soon she had a thick mask of semen covering it from her forehead to just underneath her lips. Fran was not content to just lie there and be a sperm receptacle. She took the initiative to put my shaft in her inviting mouth so she could directly taste the final few dribbles of my cum shot. It was undoubtedly the most satisfying ejaculation I had ever had since I had attained puberty three decades ago, long before sexy Fran was even born. Fran began to giggle with delight. I laughed along with her.

“Well, that was fun,” I said in what had to be one of the greatest understatements of all time.

“I certainly hope so,” Fran commented. “That’s likely the biggest load I’ve ever taken. Brian has fired some massive ones onto me, but this one of yours, without a doubt, tops all of his! Thank you, Marvin.”

I had to let those last few words sink in: A sexy, 18-year-old girl whom I barely knew was thanking 41-year-old me for unleashing a world-class cum shot all over her face! Wow! All I could think of saying at that moment was an ineloquent, “You’re very welcome, Fran. I was glad to do it.” Sometimes the appropriate words are elusive.

I was thoroughly exhausted, but about 2½ hours were still left in the room reservation. I was going to use every last one of them to please myself—and hopefully please Fran, too. She went to the washroom to scrub her face clean—that was understandable. The moment she dried it off, though, I lifted her off her feet and carried her back into bed.

“Still horny, Marvin?” she asked me, quite unnecessarily.

I replied, “Yes, and I aim to please you every second I feel this way. Fran, you are a delightful bedmate. I want to screw you every day of the week and twice on Sundays!”

“Today is Sunday!” Fran remembered.

“So it is!” I said. “Time for round two!”

Fran let me be the sexual aggressor now. I put her into the “spoons” position so I could fondle her magnificent tits while fucking her from behind. I happily confessed, “Fran, I could play with your breasts all day. They are the best I’ve ever groped. They are a total turn-on for me!”

“I think I noticed that, Marvin,” she said humorously. “You’ve given me a few hints this afternoon.”

“What I want to do now, Fran, is give you a cum shot inside your pussy while I caress these great jugs.”

“Nothing is stopping you, Marvin!” Fran accurately pointed out. “Fire away!”

Because I was 41 and not 21 like I pretended to be, it took me about 25 minutes to reload and comply. When I did ejaculate, my orgasm was passable, but it was not in the same league as the one that splattered all over my beautiful bedmate’s cute face. Physiology dictated there was no possible way I could replicate that feat less than an hour later.

Still, I was thrilled and giddy with how things had turned out and how totally wonderful this carnal experience—still unfinished—had been for me. “Fran, honey,” I asked, “would you consider dumping Brian or Bryce or Bruce or whatever your boyfriend’s name is and let me fuck you over and over again for the next 20 years?

“That’s truly tempting, Marvin,” Fran said. “You’ve been a great sex partner. You do know that, right?”

“I suspected that was the case,” I cheekily replied. Then I added, “I want to be entirely fair with you, Fran. “We’ve been at it for a little more than an hour. This has already been a $300 experience for me…easily! You don’t have to have sex with me for a second or third time. As far as I’m concerned, we’re even now.”

Fran gave me an odd look, promptly rolled me onto my stomach, and gave my behind three sound slaps as if I were a misbehaving three-year-old! I did not know why she did that—but she quickly explained her motivation for doing so.

“Dammit, Marvin!” Fran exclaimed. “That brief spanking was for you even thinking that way! I stopped caring about my debt to you about five seconds after we began this romp! Not only do I intend to fuck you a second and third time, but many, many more times after that! Don’t you think I enjoyed having sex with you as much as you enjoyed having sex with me? Honestly, sometimes I wonder about the way men think…”

I smiled and engulfed pretty Fran Cleveland in my arms. How else could I respond to her? I didn’t allow this girl to be out of my loving clutches for even a single second for the next 90 minutes.