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  “You said she coasted to a stop?” Dick asked, turning to me.

  There was a bead of perspiration on her upper lip. She had a full bow-shaped mouth that didn’t go with her garage girl look, A touch of femininity in a face of soft angles and tan skin.

  “There wasn’t any noise?” Dick asked.

  She licked her upper lip, catching the salty drop on her tongue. The heat of the desert faded as a different heat spread through my lower body.

  “Hello?” She laughed and waved a hand in front of my face.

  “What?” I jumped and blushed as if I were a different kind of girl. The kind who wouldn’t even consider where my imagination was taking me.

  “We need to get you out of the sun,” she said, and took my elbow to pull me away from the vehicle. She closed the hood.

  “What’s wrong with it?” It was only my elbow, I told myself. The most nonerogenous zone in the body, and I was feeling a little weak in the knees.

  She pulled a red bandana from her back pocket and wiped her brow. “Well, sugar,” she said, rocking back on the heels of her work boots, “I have to get inside her and make a proper inspection.”

  Again my cheeks heated at where my mind headed with those words.

  “You’re looking flushed,” Dick said, putting her arm around my waist and leading me over to her truck. “Why don’t you sit in the AC while I hook up your car?”

  The truck was more than a step up, and she gave me a lift with a firm hand on my ass. I gave up trying to control my perverted thoughts. More than my face was heating.

  Dick reached behind the passenger seat and pulled out a bottle of ice-cold water and handed it to me. “Take a sip of that, sugar.”

  The air-conditioning blew my limp red hair around my head, and I lifted the bottle dutifully to my lips.

  “That’s nice,” she said, lifting her thumb to my lip to catch some excess water. Our eyes locked and I was sure she could see the sparks in my brown ones. “I’ll have you all fixed up real soon.”

  And then she shut the door, breaking the spell. I giggled nervously and pressed the cold bottle to my forehead. My thoughts should be far from sexual considering the situation I was in. More important than my libido was how I was going to pay for this repair, whatever it was. I had left Washington with barely enough money to make the trip to Arizona.

  I could hear gears being turned behind the tow truck. There was country music on the radio, a woman’s sultry alto. The cab was spotless. An air freshener in the shape of pinup girl hung from the rearview mirror, spinning slowly in the cool breeze of the AC.

  Dick pulled open the driver’s-side door and said, “All right, sweetness, it’s time to take you home.”

  She climbed in gracefully and shifted the truck into gear before stretching one arm across the seat behind me. She eased the car onto the highway. Her fingernails had grease beneath them, and there was a delicate webbing of grease in the lines of her knuckles. I wondered if her fingers ever really came clean. She didn’t wear a bra; it really wasn’t necessary. Her breasts were small beneath her tank, and if I was not mistaken the left one was pierced.

  It had been too long since my last woman, but I was still surprised by my body’s response to this girl. I crossed my legs under my skirt to ease the growing ache. She was really too skinny to get me going like this. I liked my women full through the hips and ass with breasts I could drown in.

  “Is Dick your real name?” I asked.

  “That’s something I hope you’ll find out for yourself,” she said, a smile in her voice. She didn’t take her eyes off the road when she said it, but I felt her arm drop from the back of the seat onto my shoulders. Her fingers moved in slow circles on the bare skin of my collarbone. She began singing the lyrics to the song on the radio, terribly off-key.

  By the time we pulled into the gravel lot in front of the shop the sun was starting to set, and I had almost forgotten why I was sitting next to this girl. A neon sign glowed in the window flashing Dick’s Garage. She led me inside and told me she was going to go unhook the car, to have a seat, and that there were cold drinks in the fridge.

  The shop was filthy, grease caught in every corner and crevice like the lines in the knuckles of Dick’s fingers. Posters of pinups from another era were tacked to the walls in between postings of proper vehicle maintenance and hot rods. A ratty red couch faced the door, full of holes. The stuffing peeked out of the cushion corners. Against one wall sat an old refrigerator from the ’50s, white and domed. It hummed loudly. The door handle hung at an odd angle and rattled.

  Opposite the fridge was a neatly organized desk with a metal folding chair in front of it. I took a seat. A cracked window was at the back of the shop, so filthy with grime that you could hardly see through it. A sign caught my attention. It dominated the full length of the desk. It read: ALL repairs in CASH unless some other arrangements are made IN ADVANCE—NO vehicles will be released until paid in full. Cash only? I cursed beneath my breath as I had been hoping that the repair would be less than five hundred dollars so it could fit on what was left of my last credit card.

  The jingle of the bells on the door handle preceded Dick as she walked into the shop. She came around the desk and threw her baseball cap across the worn, speckled Formica. She sat in a chair covered in cracked turquoise vinyl, her legs spread. She ran a hand through her short, dark hair, making it stand on end and my clit harden to attention.

  “Sugar, we have a problem,” she said.

  “More than one,” I said, resting my forearms on the desk. My biceps framed my breasts in what I hoped was an attractive manner.

  “First: as much as I would like to help you out, the shop is closed for the night,” she said. “My guys have gone home, and I have a pretty good notion your timing belt has gone out.”

  “Timing belt?”

  “Yes. The only way I am gonna know for sure is if I get inside her to take a look.”

  “Her?” Again my mind was on my heated insides.

  “The engine.”

  “Oh.”

  She raised a brow at my dumbstruck expression but continued. “It’s a big project involving taking apart that engine.”

  “Oh,” I said again. I felt like an idiot. I had no idea what she was talking about. My only thoughts were on the skin I hadn’t seen. Was it tattooed as well?

  Dick pulled out a piece of paper and asked me for my last name. The first name was Amy, right?

  I nodded. She looked at me as though she was beginning to think I was simple and not the attractive, irresistible woman who wanted to barter her body for auto repairs that I was trying to project.

  “It’s seventy-five dollars to check her out and make a diagnosis. I won’t know how much the rest will cost until I examine her.”

  “Examine me?” I asked.

  “You have a one-track mind, sugar,” she said, her lips twitching up at the corners.

  “What track is it on?”

  She reached a hand over the desk and brushed a strand of my sweaty hair behind my ear. “You’ve been eyeing me like I was a naked call girl since I pulled up in my rig.”

  Even though I had been planning to offer my body for services rendered I was offended.

  “Don’t pout now,” she said, placing her calloused thumb on my lower lip. She rubbed the sensitive flesh and my tongue snuck out for a little taste of salt and service.

  “Now, sugar,” Dick said as my lips closed around her thumb and sucked it into my mouth. She swallowed hard. “I don’t want to presume anything.”

  “I don’t have any cash,” I mumbled around her flesh. Which was the truth.

  “I’d like to…” I took her thumb from my mouth and stood with her hand in mine and walked around the desk.

  I stopped between her splayed legs.

  I placed her hand on my trembling stomach.

  Our eyes locked. The heat in mine reflected back at me.

  I slid her palm beneath the elastic of my skirt and drew her fingers against wet ivory lace. “I’d like to…make other arrangements.”

  Dick held her finger against the delicate fabric, pressing into my damp slit.

  My knees buckled and she caught me with one strong arm.

  “Get up here, sugar,” she told me.

  I didn’t hesitate. I pulled my skirt up around my thighs and straddled her on the chair. Her hand moved with me, slipping past my panties and into my slippery insides. I moaned, leaning down to nibble at her mouth. Dick tasted like the gum she had been chewing, minty and sweet, with an under-layer of smoke, as if she had snuck a cigarette earlier in the day but was trying to quit. Her tongue was fast and caressed mine in a way that had my pussy massaging her fingers.

  Her free hand was tugging at my tank top, and I leaned back to pull it over my head.

  “Beautiful,” she said, and I placed my hands on the back of the chair and leaned forward so she could show her appreciation properly. My full breasts were treated to her nuzzles and swipes of tongue. She drew a nipple into her mouth and sucked.

  “Like that, do ya?” she mumbled as she moved to the other. My pussy tightened again as she fed.

  I did like it. She was three fingers deep, her thumb thrumming my clit like a well-tuned engine.

  Dick’s free hand had found its way under my skirt and squeezed my ass. Her dirty little fingers slid along the crack and took a firm hold before she stood and positioned me on the desk.

  Neat stacks of papers scattered and a soup can full of pens crashed to the floor. Her coveralls fell to her ankles. She wore white striped boxers and…I blinked as Dick pushed my skirt up around my waist. Her namesake winked at me through the opening of her boxers.

  “You’re packing,” I gasped, reaching for her black rubber dick. She slapped my h
ands away. My pulsing pussy throbbed. I wanted her in me again.

  Dick pulled her wife-beater over her head. Her tats spread in between her breasts and disappeared under her boxers, a riot of red and black and yellow and turquoise. Pinups winked at me from every direction. She twisted the silver bar in her nipple as her eyes ate me. Her skin was tan, like she went without a shirt in the desert sun. She didn’t take off her boxers but reached her hand in through the front flap and pulled the rubber cock out to meet me. It was long and thick with realistic veins running its length.

  Her hand was wet with my juices.

  She stroked herself.

  I spread my legs.

  Dick pulled the bar in her nipple.

  I wet my lips.

  She pumped again, the black head peeking through her tan fingers.

  I begged. My hand slipped between my thighs.

  She told me no. I froze, short of breath, lightheaded with desire.

  Dick stepped forward, dick in hand. She nudged the head against my hole. She gave a twist, entered an inch, two. I wrapped my legs around her waist and pulled her to me. I wanted all of her. She lay down against me with her full weight. In one fluid motion Dick slid through my wet cunt with her well-oiled camshaft.

  We were flush, belly to belly, breast to breast. She shut her eyes and kissed me softly. Her tongue traced my lips while she rocked her hips. She went slow where I wanted fast, stroking my engine, not gunning it, pulling a purring hum from inside me. This was a scenic test drive, her movements told me, her hands running over my hills and valleys. This was discovery, her lips said, as they tasted the salty crease where my neck met shoulder.

  A hand was between us. On me.

  Rubbing my clit with her strong thumb.

  The other held a handful of my breast, twisting the flesh toward her mouth. She sucked my nipple hard.

  Twisted her key into my ignition.

  And gunned me.

  Fucked me from zero to sixty in thirty seconds flat.

  Our cries echoed off the walls as we crossed the finish line.

  It was silent aside from our gasps.

  Dick chuckled and buried her head between my breasts. I could feel her smile against my skin as she kissed her way back to my mouth.

  “What?” I mumbled against her lips.

  She stood, pulling me with her. I sat on the edge of the desk and wrapped my legs around her waist. My forearms rested on her shoulders. I clasped my fingers loosely together. My skin was so pale next to Dick’s tan and colored skin. I leaned down and took the bar through her nipple in my mouth and tugged playfully. She gasped. I smiled.

  “It’s just that I leave that sign up as a joke, sugar.”

  “What?” I asked, looking up at her through my lashes.

  “You really thought I don’t accept credit cards?”

  “You sneaky bastard,” I growled, biting at her.

  She lifted me and walked around her desk.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I think I need another down payment,” Dick said, and threw me over her shoulder.

  AUGUST CRAZIES

  Miel Rose

  My fan had fallen out the window the week before and the air was thick and heavy. I didn’t want to move, but was filled with this August restlessness, worse than any spring fever I’d ever experienced. It had me wanting to claw out of my own skin. It had me collapsed on my bed holding a bandana full of melting ice to my forehead, wishing Bren was getting home tonight and would come over and fuck the shit out of me.

  It had me regretting living in a town too small for dyke bars where I could go and feel anonymous. Instead, I was stuck with coffeehouse lesbo folk nights where all my friends and most of my lovers past, present and possibly future would be congregating tonight. I had been debating whether to go or not for an hour and it was suddenly too much.

  “How fucking boring!” I said this out loud and propelled myself off the bed with a force that would have surprised anyone who’d been watching me a second before. My indecision was getting on my nerves as much as the heat. I grabbed a towel and headed for the bathroom, sweaty and naked, my thighs sticking together with each step.

  I slammed the door to the bathroom, not that there was anyone home to hear it. Teresa was at work, and Em was as out of town as Bren was. “Fucking Bren,” I muttered, turning the shower on and adjusting it a little warmer than cold. What’s the use of having a lover if she isn’t there to fuck you senseless when the August heat is making you crazy? I stepped into the shower and gasped as the cold hit my chest and ran down my body. My nipples turned to hard little pits and I squeezed them roughly, thinking about Bren’s biggest cock and how I wished she were here to fuck my face with it till I choked. Damn, tomorrow was too far away.

  I could see if Hawk was free for a date later, but as good as it would feel to beat the shit out of her right now, what I really needed was for someone to beat me. Hawk would hit me if I asked her, but it was different than getting beat by a top. There would be none of the hard-core domination that I craved to go along with my bruises. “FUCKING BREN!” I yelled into the streaming water.

  I washed quickly and got out of the shower. I had about an hour before people would be showing up at the cafe, plenty of time to get decked out. If I couldn’t get the fucking I needed, at least I could make everyone there wish they were coming home with me. I started laughing at that thought and almost tripped on the stairs up to my room. I had known everyone in this town for years, and if there was any attraction, it had been negotiated already.

  Maybe a date with Hawk wouldn’t be such a bad idea, I mused, going through my closet. But I knew better. Hawk was an excellent lay but was too submissive to give me what I needed tonight. All her cocky little-boy attitude flew out the window the minute I started topping her. The guy wanted to get bossed around. This was hot, but it would feel like work tonight. Mostly our dates were about me hurting and fucking her, and going there would give me the worst case of blue balls. Fuck anyone who says femmes can’t get blue balls.

  To my surprise, the music had already started and almost everyone was there by the time I reached the cafe. Hawk and Teresa were outside smoking when I walked up, and I could hear the acoustic guitar through the walls.

  “Damn, roommate,” Teresa said, spotting me first, “You look fine.”

  She was looking pretty fine herself, clad in a short skirt and a tube top exposing the beautifully inked tattoos of red bee balm covering her chest and shoulders.

  “Hey, love,” I said as she rose and gave me a kiss. “How was work?”

  “Stupid and boring per usual.” She stubbed out her cigarette and smiled to let me know she was just bitching, that her day hadn’t been that bad. She gave me a hug, maneuvering herself toward the door. “I gotta piss, baby. I’ll see you inside.”

  Hawk was still smoking and she gazed at me with barely concealed lust. She looked like she’d come straight from work. She worked in her uncle’s garage on the weekends, doing oil changes and learning mechanics, and her pants were covered with petroleum and grime. I wanted to climb onto her filthy jean-covered lap and hump her till I was coming out my ears. Instead, I sat down next to her, kissed her cheek, and ran my fingers through her short sweat-damp curls.

  “How are you doing, sweetheart?” I could see a definite blush creeping across her cheeks. Too fucking cute. I wanted to drag her into the bushes and kick her ass right there.

  She looked at me shyly from under her lashes. “I’m fine… how are you?” She took my hand and brought it to her mouth, kissing my fingers with soft dry lips. It was all I could do not to go for her throat.

  “I’m crazy, baby. I’m going totally insane. The heat is making me tired and cranky and horny. I don’t feel comfortable in my own skin. I feel lethargic but totally manic at the same time.” I felt a small tremor go through her at the word “horny.”

  “Is there anything I can do for you?” She looked at me with hopeful eyes.

  “No, baby.” I took her face between my hands and kissed her softly on the lips. “Just be sweet to me tonight. I can’t take this mood out on you; it would end bad. You’re so fucking tempting though.” I grabbed the short hairs at the base of her skull, tugged gently and then let her go.

  She relaxed and reached for her tobacco. Reading my mood like the excellent bottom she was, she asked, “When’s Bren coming home?”