Mr. Gas Station Man

by Robert Scott Leyse

"Mr. Gas Station Man, fill me to the brim --
Slosh my pussy, overflow its pink rim,
With a rushing gush of tingling jism!"
Requests Christy-Sue -- her eyes are prisms
Radiant with desire, delight, laughter.

Sweet Christy-Sue needn't ask -- I'm after
The item she proffers: extract my pump,
Squeeze her rump while inserting to the stump.

"Mr. Gas Station Man, hammer it down hard!
Pummel me silly with your calling card!
My motor's sluggish and you must shock it --
Turn my pistons with your bottle rocket!"

The bed's ashake with her acceleration;
Plus Christy makes a modification
Of her tank's position, uplifting ass
To tighten the seal, lest a drop of gas
Dribble to side, leave her feeling cheated.

"Mr. Gas Station Man, my engine's heated
And you must cool it -- a tube and lube job,
Please! Apply grease! And tweak my nether knob
With your thumb: it'll make my motor purr
More -- I want a nice smooth powerful grrr
Down there: I plan on racing the Indy!

We're racing harder and Christy's shinned me;
All piston's firing, she's squealing louder
(only makes me want to do her prouder)
While tossing unfettered from side to side.

"Mr. Gas Station Man, it's a wild joy ride
For sure; but can't you rev it up a tad?
Why don't you show me you're born to be bad?"

Christy's eyes mist over, her limbs quiver --
Her stomach skin contracts, starts to shiver.
"Oh, God, I'm dizzy; but it's no complaint!"
She sputters. "Wield your hose without restraint! --
I don't care if I lose the road and crash!
Yes, plumb harder -- deeper! Widen my gash!
Pump me so full of gas I burst, ignite!
I want to careen into fiery light!"

Christy breathes irregular, seems to scream;
She suddenly tightens, gushes sweet cream.
"My, my! You're every Gas Station Girl's dream!"
She says, squirming to savor the drenching
(and don't I adore girls who love wenching!).

"Mr. Gas Station Man, 'twas a wild joy ride
For sure; and my alignment, it sure slipped;
Plus my transmission certainly skipped!
That's right, Mr. Gas Station Man: pump action
You have aplenty! Such satisfaction
This hungry little motor's seldom known!
I do declare some gaskets might be blown!

"But all the same," continues Christy-Sue,
"I surely could do with a second screw!
So will you, please? Will you fill me again?
Maybe mix in some nitro glycerin?"


Robert Scott Leyse was born in San Francisco, grew up in various locales about America, lived in Paris for a spell, and now resides on Manhattan's Upper East Side. Upon arrival in Manhattan he worked as a New York cab driver on the night shift, with the aim of atoning for a sheltered upbringing and having adventures the likes of which he'd never had before and he wasn't disappointed; subsequently he acquired over a dozen years of experience in the legal field, where he was pleasantly surprised to find that additional adventures, of the office politics and shenanigans variety, were to be had; presently he works in the advertising field, where he's not looking for any special adventures, having decided to explore the option of separating work from fun and games and having secrets that are easier to keep. He skis in Sun Valley, Idaho, surfs with board and body in southern California and Puerto Rico, once took a belly dance class in Green Bay, Wisconsin, and probably shouldn't mention his lousy attendance record at the yoga studio down the street. He eats fish heads and insects and drinks blood, but can’t be paid to eat potato chips or cake.

He is a co-founder and the editor of this webzine (launched May Day, 2001); and the founder and editor of the ShatterColors Literary Review (launched May Day, 2006). His three novels are: Liaisons for Laughs: Angie & Ella’s Summer of Delirium (July, 2009), Self-Murder (April, 2010), and Attraction and Repulsion (June, 2011).

Mr. Gas Station Man
© 2003 by Robert Scott Leyse
All rights reserved.







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