Nicki’s Mini Pt. 01

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If you have read some of my other stories, then you’ll know I am an office temp and I work in Brighton on the South coast of England. I am no stranger to adventure and some of my adventures have been pretty strange! Anyway, the story I wanted to tell you about today relates to the day I decided to buy a car. It struck me that I might have more jobs available to me if I didn’t have to rely on public transport to get me to work. Having said that, I didn’t have a whole lot of money to spend on a car, so I’d need to be careful about what I chose.

There’s no way I could afford to buy a second-hand car from a dealer-let alone a new car. Temp work is just not steady and reliable enough for me to commit to a car payment. But I had about five hundred quid saved up and thought I could use that to get an old banger that would get me around. I also reckoned that a small car would be easier to park-and anyone who has been to Brighton knows that parking is tricky (and can be expensive).

Well, it turns out I solved the parking problem first: I was chatting with the landlady when I paid her my rent and she said that the bloke who had been living upstairs had left. Well, he was allowed to park his car in front of the landlady’s garage; when I told her I was thinking of getting a car, she said I could park where he had. Brilliant. Now I just needed a car.

I looked through the local paper and couldn’t see anything even remotely interesting-until I saw a little red Mini Cooper. That would be perfect! It was the original old-style mini; I could really imagine myself zipping around in one of those. Minis before they became little corporate BMWs. The unfortunate thing was the price. It was way out of my price range, and I couldn’t even bring myself to call. They wanted so much more than I could afford. £2750. I couldn’t raise that kind of money. But now my heart was set on a mini.

So I scoured the papers for weeks. I’d take a peek at eBay as well, but that was just depressing. I didn’t think I stood a chance of ever having my dream car. Then, walking back up from the train station one day I passed a mini at the side of the road with a sign in the window. “Desperate to sell. Money needed badly, hence priced to move. £1000 ono call blah blah blah.”

Well, that was still much more than I had, but the seller was keen and… so was I. I called the number right then and there. “Hello?”

“Hi.” I replied. “I am standing right next to a yellow mini for sale. The sign had this number.”

“Oh yes. Are you interested?”

“I am.” I said.

“Hold on a mo.” Said the man’s voice.

“Oh yes. I can see you now. Wait there-I’ll be down in a sec.”

So, there I waited and a minute later up strode this bloke waving car keys in his hand.

“Hello,” he said, “like the look of it do you?”

I nodded in reply. “I think it’s just what I am looking for.”

The guy was younger than me-maybe nineteen. Tall and gangly, wearing baggy jeans, a T-shirt and a fleece jacket. I smiled at him and he smiled back-then I saw his eyes flitting across my body; taking in my cleavage (that’s always first-especially when I wear a blouse that only just keeps my bosom at bay); then my legs (i prefer black sheer seamed stockings and black stilettos. Then finally he made eye contact. “Cool.” He said. “Want to take a look around?”

“That would be great-thanks.”

He opened up the driver’s side door and held it open for me. The original minis are quite low to the ground and there’s really quite a skill to getting in while wearing a skirt-especially if you want to remain somewhat demure. Well, judging by the look on his face he got an eyeful as I got into the car. Then he came around to the passenger side and got in next to me. My skirt had raised up my legs to the mid-thigh point and I was fumbling about to adjust the seat-I didn’t need it as far back as this bloke.

“Here,” he said, “Let me help you with that.”

He showed me what to do to pull the seat in a little and then proceeded to show me around. It doesn’t take long to show someone around the inside of an old-style Mini. For one thing the controls are pretty bask, and for another, it’s just not very big.

“So, what do you think?” He said, “Oh. By the way, my name’s Nigel.”

“And I am Nicki.” I replied. “And I think it is just the kind of thing I am looking for.”

“Want to take it for a spin?”

“Would that be OK?”

“Sure.” He passed me the keys. I smiled and thanked him and put the key in the ignition. I put my foot on the clutch and turned the engine over-it started first time, “Well,” I said, “That’s a good sign.” But keeping my foot on the clutch in those heels was really awkward. I made sure I was not in gear and took my foot off the clutch. Then I leaned forward and took off my shoes. “These are more trouble than they are worth.” I explained to Nigel. I put my heels on the back seat and put the car in gear. “Off we go!”

Well, it wasn’t the best time to go out for a drive. I had been coming home from work along with thousands esenyurt escort of other people. And most of them, it seems, had cars. We crawled along the back roads and eventually made it down to the coast where we had a clearer run. Along past the Palace Pier and the roads are nice and broad. Before long we were tootling along in fourth gear and Nigel was chatting away about miles per gallon and when the mini had last had an MOT. I was really enjoying myself. It had been a few years since I’d had a chance to drive (my parents car) and the mini was every bit as much fun as it had been in my imagination. I wound down the window (it was a warm balmy evening) and my hair felt great as it was blown around in the wind.

As we left town and got out into the country, Nigel asked, “So-what do you think?”

“It’s a great little car.” I said.

“I know. Wish I didn’t have to sell it.”

I knew the answer, but I thought I’d ask anyway, “So how much do you want for it?”

“Well,” he replied, “I am asking a thousand, but I think it’s worth more than that. So I am hoping I can get the full asking price.”

Bummer. I needed to be able to negotiate on price. I let the silence hang between us. I drove on. I was hoping I could stand the silence better than he could. I turned up away from the coast and along a windy road through the South Downs. “I suppose I could negotiate a little.”

Music to my ears. With my left hand I pulled my skirt up just an inch or two-just so Nigel could take another look at my legs, then I turned to him and smiled. I caught him looking at my thighs; he blushed when he realized I’d seen him. I raised my eyebrows in mock disdain.

“Oh. Sorry.” said Nigel.

I decided to press my advantage. “So, you think you could come down on price a little?”

It was his turn to pause.

“I suppose so. A bit.” He said finally. “What did you have in mind? Make me an offer.”

I thought about it. All I had was half what he wanted. And I couldn’t start negotiations lower still to get up to five hundred. We were going up a hill; I put my foot on the clutch and dropped a gear into second. I felt like the car was enjoying the run, and I was too. It didn’t take more than a few seconds before I was back in third gear and sailing up the hill.

“I could give you four hundred in cash.”

“Shit.” He said. “Four hundred? But I really need the thousand. I’d be six hundred short. And it’s worth much more than a thousand.”

I let the silence descend again and barreled on up the hill, enjoying the feeling of the wind in my hair and the breeze across my chest; in fact I could feel my nipples had hardened as the cold air had blown against them. “I suppose I could go a little higher than that.” I said. He looked over at me, and I bit my lip (men love that) and glanced at him.

“What if…” I said, “What if I offered you five hundred?”

He groaned, “That’s still half what I am asking.”

“I know.” I replied, “But I’d give it a really good home, and I could get the money out of the cashpoint tonight. You wanted a quick sale.” I wanted to seal the deal. I took my hand off the gear knob and gave his thigh a squeeze. “What do you say?”

I felt him flinch as my hand squeezed his thigh. He liked that-he liked me. I took my hand off his thigh to shift down again, but turned to smile at him. He was clearly flushed and thinking hard-though I don’t think he was thinking clearly. I put my hand back on his thigh-a little further up this time. “What do you say? Eh?” I gave him a squeeze and he jumped.

“Fuck.” He said, under his breath, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

I put the car back in third gear as we accelerated then put my hand back on his thigh. I saw a lay-by approaching and decided to stop. Both hands on the wheel, I pulled in. With the car at a halt, hand brake on, I turned off the ignition and looked over at Nigel. My hair was all over the place; I swept it back from my face as I looked over at him and slowly put my hand back on his thigh. He didn’t know where to look-his thigh, mine, my cleavage, my erect nipples, poking through the silky material of my blouse or-God forbid-my eyes.

I bit my lip. I squeezed his thigh, “What do you think Nigel? I know its not the asking price, but I can get you the money tonight. And a bird in the hand…” I raised my eyebrows. As I took my hand from his thigh, I let my fingernails rake gently along his leg. I wanted it to be really hard for him to say ‘no’. If nothing else, he was going to be really hard…

Since we’d been driving away from the sea, the sky had clouded over. It looked like it might start raining soon. “Look Nigel. While we’re stopped, why don’t you show me under the bonnet?” I had no idea what I would be looking at, but if I positioned myself right, he would be looking at my cleavage, and I’d be keeping him unsettled enough he might accept my offer.

We got out and he opened the bonnet. He was more comfortable now, talking me through the main engine parts… The battery was new, the avrupa yakası escort cam belt had been changed recently and I can’t remember what else. I had undone an extra button on my blouse as we’d walked around to the front of the car, so when I leaned over he got an almost unfettered view of my white lacy bra. When he looked up from the engine and saw me, he raised his head so quickly he hit the back of his head on the bonnet-it was comical.

I giggled and went around to check if he was OK. “Oh dear! Are you all right?”

He was rubbing his head, “Yes, thanks. I’ll be fine.” And then it started. Not just rain, but the heavens opened. Only a few times have I ever know rain so hard. And twenty minutes earlier, the sky had been blue. But now, out of nowhere, deluge! In the few steps it took me to get back around to the driver’s seat and get in, I was soaked. Almost like someone had taken a bucket of water and dropped it on me. Nigel was in the car beside me, the bonnet was still up and the rain was thundering down onto the car.

I looked down at myself to see that my blouse had gone completely transparent. “Oh Shit.” I said. Nigel looked over and found himself fixated by my breasts. Now he just couldn’t take his eyes off them. I shivered. The rain was cold, and my blouse damp against my skin. Nigel looked pretty damp too. The rain continued for the next five minutes or so, but then finished almost as abruptly as it had started. As it slowed to a halt, Nigel got out and closed the bonnet. When he got back into the car, I said to him, “Well, Nigel. What do you want to do?”

“I… Err… Well, Nicki. Much as I’d love to, I just can’t accept your offer. It’s just not enough.”

“I see.” I said. “Well, fair enough. If I’m not going to have it I think you should probably drive home.” Damn it. I thought I had him. I thought I was going to get a brilliant deal. We got out of the car and swapped places. Once I was in and we had our seat-belts on, Nigel started up the car.

I put my hand on his thigh and said, “It’s such a shame you couldn’t accept my offer.” Then gave him a squeeze. He kept both hands on the wheel and glanced back at me ever so briefly. I had the impression that he thought it was a shame too.

Nigel didn’t drive the car as hard as I did: he drove it almost lovingly. Up through the downs towards the A27-which is the main road back down into Brighton. We drove in silence and I spent my time adjusting my blouse-trying to dry it out. The heater in old minis are really not the best; frankly, it was useless, so it wasn’t long before I was shivering. “Shit,” I said, under my breath, as I rubbed my arms to try to get warm.

“Sorry,” said Nigel, “It seems to have cleared up again now.”

Small talk with a stranger when I was soaked to the skin and clearly not going to buy his car was just not what I had in mind. What I wanted was warmth… and chivalry. I looked over at him-he was clearly much warmer than me.

“Well I am still freezing and the heater is not doing me any good at all.”


“I am freezing my tits off here.”

We drove along in silence and, a minute or so later turned onto the A27. Shortly after there was a lay by and Nigel pulled in. “Jump out for a sec,” he said, and he did the same. I was even colder when I got outside; as he came around the car, he took off his fleece jacket and gave it to me.

“Oh.” I said, genuinely surprised, “Thanks!” I started to put it on, but the wetness of my blouse was uncomfortable against my skin. I paused and thought to myself “What the hell.” I unbuttoned my blouse, slipped it off and put on Nigel’s fleece. I smirked as I watched Nigel-he didn’t know where to look, poor dear. We jumped back into the car and I started to rub my arms again, this time I was definitely getting warmer. I didn’t zip it up the whole way, deciding to leave my boobs on show just a little.

As Nigel pulled out I reached over again and put my hand on his thigh. “Thanks, Nigel. I really appreciate this. I am feeling warmer already.”


“It’s such a shame we couldn’t come up with a deal on the mini.”

“Yea, I know.”

“Why do you need the money so desperately?”

“Oh. It’s my step-dad. He’s being an unreasonable fucker.”

“Really?” I said, “How so?”

“Well, I owe him a thousand quid and now he’s saying he needs it by the end of the week.”

“Oh wow. Hence the need for a quick sale.”


Silence, but now my mind was working.

“Nigel,” I started, tentatively, “What if… What if you let me talk to your step-dad?”

“What? What good would that do?”

“I really don’t know. but maybe we could work something out…”

Nigel shrugged. “If you like. But I have to warn you. he’s a bit of a tosser.”

I smiled. “OK.”

He drove us back into town and found a place to park only a two minute walk from where he lived. It turned out that Nigel lived with his mum and step-dad and, if he didn’t anadolu yakası escort come up with the money, was going to get turfed out. Even though he lived for his car, he couldn’t come up with a plan other than selling it to pay back his step-dad. His mum worked shifts as a nurse, so only his step-dad was at home when we got there. Sitting in front of the telly, drinking a cheap lager, straight out of the can. He was not the nicest looking bloke, big beer belly and his shirt unbuttoned, showing off a hairy chest. Balding, with a pathetic comb over. Nigel lead the way into the sitting room.

“Hiya.” said Nigel.

His step-dad looked around and grunted, then did a kind of double take, looking around at me. He looked me up and down with hungry eyes then asked Nigel, “Who’s that?”

“This is Nicki.”


“She was thinking about buying my car.”

“Uh huh.”

“Got money to waste has she?”

He spoke as if I wasn’t there.

“Then I can pay you back.”


He was a monosyllabic bastard. No time for anyone but himself. I caught Nigel’s eye and beckoned to him, then whispered, “Why don’t you go out for an hour or so while I have a chat with your step-dad, and see what I can work out-OK?”

He shrugged. He had no idea what I was up to and, I suppose, I didn’t have a complete plan. But I did love that little mini and really didn’t want it slipping from my grasp. I heard the front door close behind Nigel as I walked in front of his step dad; I sat next to him on the sofa.

“Anything good on?” I asked. All I got was a shrug in response.

“Nigel was telling me he owes you a grand.”

He nodded.

“it’s a shame,” I said, “Because I’d love to buy his mini, but I only have five hundred quid.”

“Ah well.”

“What do you think it’s worth?”

He shrugged. “More than that.”

It really was like getting blood out of a stone. He was the least talkative bloke I’d ever seen. I shuffled a little closer to him on the sofa, just to try to get his attention-my ample cleavage was still on show above the zip on Nigel’s jacket. “How much, do you think?”

He shrugged again, “Fifteen hundred quid, I’d have thought.”

“Shit,” I said, “So it’d be a bargain if I could get it for five hundred.”

He nodded.

A plan was forming in my head. I thought I could see a way-a way to get the mini for myself, get Nigel off the hook and get him a decent price for his car. I held out my hand, “Sorry, we haven’t been introduced properly,” I said, “I’m Nicki.”

He put the lager can between his legs and took my hand, “Keith.” He said.

I shook his hand, “Nice to meet you, Keith.” I said and gave him a broad smile. I saw his eyes flit to my breasts.

I looked down at the can and said, “Do you mind?” I slid it slowly from between his legs and took a long drink; a dribble of beer went down my chin and neck. “Mmmm. Thanks.” I slid the beer back between his legs and gave his thigh a little squeeze.

Now Keith’s attention had moved away from the telly. He was looking at me. I don’t think he was actually capable of smiling, but he did leer. He licked his lips as he looked at me. Taking in my high heels, seamed stockings and skirt, then Nigel’s fleece jacket and my breasts peeking out. I caught the dribble of beer at my neck and licked it from my fingers. “I was thirsty.”

“Do you think…” I continued. “Do you think I could… persuade you.”


“Could I persuade you to let Nigel off the grand he owes you?”

He guffawed. “You could try,” he said finally, “But I’d take some persuading.”

I smiled and bit my lip then rummaged in my handbag. I pulled out my lipstick and applied some. Then, in a husky whisper I said, “Let me try.” My hand went to his knee, then I raked my blood red fingernails along his thigh. He had no finesse. He reached straight for my chest and grabbed a handful of tit-mauling it right through the fleece. It made me gasp, but I thought to myself, ‘what else did you expect from a wanker like this?’ I unzipped the fleece and slipped my hand between his thighs, cupping his balls through his trousers.

He grunted in response and grabbed my boob again, this time with only that lacy bra for protection. I unzipped his fly and slipped my hand inside-he wasn’t wearing any underwear, the dirty sod. His cock popped up and I closed my hand around it as he tore at my bra, wanting to free my tits. Jesus, this had better be worth it.

I leaned forward towards his proud standing cock and flicked my tongue at the ridge of his helmet, then I heard the ripping of fabric as he pulled at my bra. As I started to stroke his dick, I felt his nails dig into my tit; he was going to be rough.

I spat on his cock then licked up and down his length before whispering, “I can be quite persuasive you know.”

“I bet you can.” he replied, though the last syllable was lost as my mouth engulfed his cock. He tasted of stale piss, but I licked and sucked at him with gusto. My hands played with his balls, my tongue pressed against his shaft and my teeth raking at his length as I bobbed up and down. Keith kept one hand on my tit, but the other grabbed a handful of my hair and started to force me to take more of his cock into my mouth; he knew I was chocking on his dick, but he didn’t give a toss. He was going to fuck my mouth for all he was worth. Oh Jesus.

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