0 comments/ 10880 views/ 1 favorites Heterochromia By: roadworthy It was the last summer that I still saw myself as a kid, the summer that I had to decide to shit or get off the pot. Twisting wrenches was a decent hobby, but I was quickly outgrowing the group of uninspired, racist fucks that were my gearhead contemporaries. High school would never end for most of these guys. I'd seen what had become of their older brothers, and fathers, for that matter. Most of them wound up in dead end jobs, pouring money into rustbuckets until they knocked up some neighborhood girl. After that, all they'd ever talk about was their "glory days" while drinking themselves to death. Not a path I was willing to take, especially with a sweet offer to study engineering back east. I'd rented an excellent shop in a rough part of town, and since it was way bigger than I needed, I decided to sublet most of it to a few guys I knew from the neighborhood, covering the entire cost of renting the place, plus putting a few bucks in my own pocket. Between that, what I'd been charging local guys for doing work on their cars, and whatever cash I made grudge racing at the local drag strip, I was making some serious cash for a young guy, all tax free. There was this one dude that rented a corner of the shop, Dale. Not really a bad guy when he was sober, but a fucking idiot as soon as he had a few beers in him. I didn't give a shit; he paid his share of the rent on time and had his own tools. And, an absolute stone fox of a girlfriend, Lorelei. Lorelei would usually show up at the shop late in the evening, after she got off work at a local movie theater. I could never quite figure out what she saw in Dale, but I knew enough guys who'd taken on "projects"; heaps of junk that they'd seen through rose colored glasses, to surmise that there were women that would take on similar boyfriend projects. She'd show up with a case of beer or some weed, and was very personable, loving the attention she'd get from the guys that would be hanging out around the shop. A few weeks after she started hanging around, I overheard a couple of other guys talking about her. Seems that one of them knew Lorelei from back in their hometown down south, and she had quite a reputation. I didn't give it much thought; I'd heard enough beer fuelled bullshit by then to realise that most of the time there was nothing to it other than some phony machismo. Nevertheless, I started paying a bit more attention to her body language when she'd show up. Being a bit shy, it was easy for me to appear aloof, which was a good way to approach the whole situation. One night, and it was late, well after midnite, Lorelei showed up. Dale wasn't there, and hadn't been all night. She looked particularly juicy, wearing a skin tight pair of Levis and a sheer, low cut top. She must have known that Dale wasn't around, as she came right over to my workbench and pulled up a stool. "So, Dale seems to think that you're 'the man' around here, Mike. All these other guys seem to think so too. That right?" She looked me right in the eye, as I noticed for the first time that her eyes were two different colors; the right one hazel, the left, Liz Taylor indigo. "I never really thought of it, I guess I know enough that guys are willing to pay me to fix their cars. Truth is, more often than not, I'm just fixing what they've fucked up through lack of common sense." I leaned back against the workbench, doing my best to ignore the fact that she was checking me out. There was little in the way of subtlety as far as her body language went at this point, her knees falling open as she leaned forward enough to offer a clear view of her firm little tits. "So I scored some killer weed earlier, Mike, gotta magazine or something I could twist one up on?" "Yeah, in that drawer right beside you there. The one on the top is brand new, I'm sure you don't want to get your hands all greasy, do you?" She got this look on her face, and raised an eyebrow, purring, "Well, that depends..." I turned back to the workbench, doing a final check on the gear contact pattern of the differential I was finishing up. Lorelei opened the drawer, pulling out the whole stack of magazines that were in there. Looking at the newest copy of "Hot Rod" that sat on the top of the pile, she glanced over at me with a slightly disappointed look on her face. "Wow. I kind of expected something a little more, y'know, 'adult'." I looked at her and decided that she was not easily offended. "Well, dig down to the bottom of the pile then. There's some stuff left here by the previous occupant of this dump. But you should probably roll that joint first, there's some stuff in there that's pretty fucking......distracting." She twisted up a fat doob and sparked it up in record time as I wiped the grease off of my hands and dug a roachclip out of my toolbox. She took a monster hit and passed it to me, diving into the pile as soon as her hands were free. By the time she was halfway through it, she looked up at me with shock and astonishment on her face. "Where the FUCK did you get this shit from?!" "I told you, it was here when I moved in. Some old German guy used to fix Volkswagens and Porsches out of this place. When he kicked off, the landlord sold his tools, but left everything else. Those magazines were right where you found them." As she looked at the greasy covers, I could see her squirming on the stool. "Fuck, I can't believe this shit!" She held up a magazine with a German title, and a picture of of a woman with some guy pissing in her mouth. Then an ancient black and white hardcore S+M mag. Then some with subject matter forbidden even to mention on Literotica. She was dumbfounded, oblivious to everything except the pile of well used filth in front of her. Her right hand moved to her crotch. Maybe the rumors of her reputation were closer to the truth than I'd thought.... Suddenly she slipped the pile of magazines back into the drawer, and reached for the joint that I'd been bogarting while she was perusing the nasty old smut. Seconds later, Dale and a couple of his buddies walked in, loud and hammered. He looked over and saw Lorelei sitting at my workbench, and got that drunken moron look on his face. I didn't need any of his shit, but I had nothing to hide, and continued to clean and put away my tools. He started lumbering over toward us, when Lorelei laced into him. "Where the FUCK were you all night? YOU told me YESTERDAY that you were taking me to the ball game TONIGHT..'yeah, pick you up at six, babe'...nine thirty, still not even a fucking phone call. So I got in the car and came out here to see if you didn't have that fucking piece of shit fall on you and kill you or something!!!" He stopped dead in his tracks, a deer in the headlights. He'd start to open his mouth and Lorelei would just tell him to shut the fuck up. She told him she was going home, and turned and thanked me for letting her hang out and wait for him while I had better things to do. The look on her face made her reputation a certainty. She stormed past him, the sound of her heels clicking across the floor and the door slamming shut behind her deafening in the silence of the old shop. Dale stood there with an oddly blank look on his face; he was no brain surgeon, but he actually looked dumber in a way that had nothing to do with the booze he'd consumed. Not only that, but his acne was worse than it was when we were in junior high. Glancing over at his buddies, I recognized them both as a couple of gym rats I'd seen hanging out at a local bar. Looking back at Dale, it suddenly made sense; he was starting to look pretty ripped for a pudgy dude. The fucker was on the juice. I told him the differential for his car was done, what he owed me, and to lock up when he left. I got home and Lorelei's big old Buick convertible was parked a couple of doors down from my place. I parked my car, and could see her sitting on my steps. What the fuck, it had been nearly two months since the last time I had a piece of tail, and she was my type; pretty, athletic, with a gorgeous pair of legs. The fact that she seemed to really dig that kinky shit she'd checked out in those old magazines was just a bonus. I got out of the car and she waved and held up a six pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon. This was getting better by the second; I was fucking parched. "So, I didn't really feel like going home. Wanna hang out and have a few beers?" She looked at me with a degree of intensity that went well beyond needing a drinking buddy, or someone to smoke more weed with. "Yeah, I'd be up for that. But it's gonna be hot as hell in my apartment. It's fucking beautiful out. We should take your Buick for a ride. Nothing like a ragtop on a summer night." She tossed me the keys and vaulted over the railing onto the sidewalk. "Good idea, Mikey. It's a lot harder to spot a moving target." She threw an arm around my waist and pulled me close as we walked to her car, the smell of her perfume and ripe pussy instantly turning me rock hard. I drove out just south of town, onto a two lane blacktop that ran parallel to a row of abandoned factories, toward the old Air Force base. Lorelei was singing along to the radio, her voice an incredible surprise as she wrapped it around Steely Dan's "Do It Again" with a sultry southern embrace. She popped a Pabst and handed it to me, sliding over in the seat and facing me as I took a long draw on it. "Fuck, Lorelei, you really have a great voice, where the hell did you learn to sing like that?" I looked over at her, as a little beam of pride crossed her face. "Really? I guess I don't sing in front of people much. I learned in church, back home. Never went to church much after Mama and I moved out here..............." No doubt a story there, but I didn't need to hear it just then. "No, you really sound good! Seriously, you should hit some of the jam sessions, see if you can put a band together or something." It would have been a good thing to say even if she was lame, but she was good, goosebump good, and I meant it. I pulled off onto an abandoned railroad siding and parked the Buick under a canopy of stars. "So, Mike, that is quite a collection of pornography that you have there, at the shop. Tell me, and be honest now. Have you ever got yourself off, lookin' at those filthy pictures?" I thought about it for about a microsecond, then copped to it. "Guilty, ma'am." "Why, Micheal.....I had NO idea you were that kind of person...." She knew I was turned on by her sexy Georgia accent, and had cranked the intensity of her southern drawl, making a point of sarcastically feigning shock at such outrageous behavior. "You tell me now, sir, which ones?" I looked her directly in the eye. "The S+M one. The one with the two girls and that big fucking dildo. The gang bang one, especially the centerfold. Some hot German chick has two cocks in her pussy, and is deep throating another guy." "Really. What about the one with that man peeing in that poor girl's mouth?" She licked her lips lasciviously. "And that other one, with that pretty blonde lady on her knees in a stable with that..." "Hmmm, not so much, y'know. Interesting, but more like 'seeing the sideshow at the county fair' kind of thing....." "Are you saying you don't like the carnival, Micheal? Some folks like the side shows, I'll have you know.....the 'freaks'.....things and people at their extremes...it's fun to see past the things people see as 'normal'.........." I didn't even think, I just grabbed the hair on the back of her head and pulled her toward me. She kissed me hard, her long tongue snaking into my mouth as she unbuckled my belt and reached into my jeans, grabbing my rock hard prick roughly and tearing it out of my pants. What little there was of her blouse was torn away instantly, her stunning tits ripe in my hands as her tongue dance began to undulate to the fuck moan coming from within her. The smell of her sex was incredible; it seemed to come out of her pores, filling the night air with the ancient aroma of wet, screaming cunt. She finally came up for a breath, taking a long swig of her beer then looking at me with a cocky smirk. "So..........on the subject of nasty behavior.... hear any of the gossip on me from that fucking hillbilly, Ronnie yet? I can't imagine he's learned to keep that mouth of his shut, he's as much a busy body as his fat mama...." I hung for a pregnant moment, partially distracted by the exotic asymmetry of her eye colors, which seemed even more intense in the moonlight, and then deciding to be candid with her regarding her question. "Yeah, I heard him spouting off, but you're right about him not being able to keep his mouth shut. I just tune him out after a while." "Aw, come on, Mike, do you expect me to believe that if you heard someone saying some of the shit that I know Ronnie loves to spout, and that shit was about some pretty long legged southern girl that you try so damn hard to pretend not to notice, that you'd just 'tune him out'? I'll just bet you know EXACTLY what he said, now don't you?" Raising an eyebrow, she shot back the last swallow of her beer. "Yeah,............... I do know what he said. He claims that Lorelei Beauregard is 'a shameless slut and, an insatiable cocksucker'. Apparently, there are several instances when you 'satisfied a considerable number of men during the course of an evening with your cocksucking abilities'." She glanced down, grinning as a little wave of self satisfaction crossed her face. "Not that HE has any personal experience, the little toad, but, apparently.............yeah, I'd say I resemble those remarks........." Smiling and sliding back into the passenger seat she popped another couple of beers and passed me one. "Yeah, I do love to have a cock in my mouth, and have felt that way since I first heard that sucking a man's penis was a thing you could do. Singing wasn't the only thing I learned at choir practice, y'know..............." She looked down at my prick, which was so fucking hard by this time that it hurt. "Hmmmmmmmm.....I would really love to suck that lovely cock of yours, Mike. But first, tell me, if you got to watch me doing any of those things that are in those filthy magazines of yours, what would you want to see me do?" My mind raced, having already fantasized about her doing practically everything I'd seen in those magazines since she started hanging around. Having heard Ronnie go off about Lorelei being a full on fellatrix, it was easy to imagine her in the role of the woman in the gang bang centerfold. "I'd want to see you being gang banged, Lorelei. I'd fucking love to see how many guys could stuff their cocks into that sweet smelling pussy of yours at once. I'd like to see what a dirty fucking cocksucker you really are......" I couldn't believe I just told her that. She licked her lips and moved toward me. "Yeah, I'd fucking love that, honey. Wouldn't mind being tied up, as well. Sometimes what a girl needs is something she has no say in...." She dropped her face into my lap, whispering filthy little things that she wanted done to her as her tongue brushed against against the tip of my prick. I just wanted jam my cock down her throat, but hearing that sexy fucking voice pleading to be humiliated, to be degraded and abused like some filthy whore, I'd never heard anything like it before, and I was never as fucking turned on as I was at that moment. "Fuck, baby......I'd fucking love it if you tied me up and let every one of those guys fuck me hard.....shove their big dirty cocks in my mouth.....take pictures of me with cum all over my face....." She'd unzipped her jeans and started stroking herself off, her deep moans punctuating her filthy confession. ".......spank my fucking ass 'til it's red then fuck my tight little hole with your big fucking cock.........." I couldn't take it anymore. I rammed my prick into her mouth, shoving her head down as she moaned wildly. She wrapped her long tongue around the head of my throbbing cock, bringing me to the fucking edge of filling her sweet face with my aching load. She began to draw it into her throat deeper, looking up at me with the most intense expression in her eyes as she toyed with the mounting pressure in my balls. She began stroking herself faster, drawing my cock deeper into her throat as she did, her eyes becoming dreamy as she began to come. My balls felt as if they were about to explode, it would have been so easy to just pump her face full of my load, but the fragrance of her glorious southern cunt made me just want to fuck her senseless. I pulled out of her mouth, her moan of disappointment trailing out of her throat like the strands of saliva still connecting her mouth to my cock. With one pull her jeans were off. "Spread your legs. I've been able to smell that cunt of yours since you showed up at the shop. Show it to me." It was by far the most gorgeous pussy I'd ever seen; her labia swollen and full, her bush thick and well trimmed. Her intoxicating aroma hung in the muggy night air. "So, Southern Girl. You had a pretty good look at those magazines, now it's YOUR turn........what would YOU want me to watch you doing?" She didn't expect that, but quickly settled in, her back against the inside of the passenger door, her long legs spread wide across the expanse of the Buick's upholstery. I was drawn to her pussy like a moth to a flame; having caught fleeting whiffs of it all night, now the air was thick with the rawness of it. She let out a moan as my lips brushed against her slick, delicious labia........ "Hey, no fair! How am I supposed to tell you what kind of filthy things I'd be willing to do for your amusement when you're lickin' my pussy, dammit!!!!!!" "Just concentrate.......I'll be nice.....maybe." She took a deep breath, and suddenly seemed much more serious, looking down at me as my tongue drew circles around her clit..... "I like to be tied up, Micheal. I'd want to be tied up so that anyone could put anything they wanted in me, and I couldn't do a thing to stop them." Her voice was beginning to shake as I slipped my tongue into her, then she closed her eyes and continued. "Jesus....I always had a thing for pretty women.........I'd like it if a tall, pretty woman tied me up and made me do things to her.........lick her hot, sweaty pussy, put my tongue in her ass........fuck, I'd fucking love it if she twisted my nipples, took her time and sucked 'em real slow and hard............makin' me beg her to touch my pussy.........." She was in a near-mantra state, her body tight and nearly vibrating as she toyed with her nipples, her gorgeous cunt slick and throbbing. ".......then she'd spank it, makin' me all red and swollen.......drippin' wet, ready for her big fuckin' dildo....." I slipped two fingers into her, pressing on her "G" spot, bringing more urgency to her tone. ".......it's so fucking big, I try to close my legs but I'm tied too tightly....she pushes it into me hard...spanking my ass while she does........" She grabbed my hair, her eyes on fire, locked on mine. "OK, Micheal, you like the idea of watching some lady tie me up and spank my pussy and drive a huge fucking dildo into me? Hearin' me scream like a crazy woman as she fucks my brains out while I squirm around helpless?" Yeah, I liked that idea. But I liked the idea of fucking her brains out myself even better. I grabbed her legs and pulled her toward me, my cock finding it's own way instantly into her tight, beautiful cunt. It was fucking glorious, as she pulled me inside of her I was fighting hard to keep from exploding, using every bit of my concentration to postpone the load aching in my balls. "Oh, God, Micheal......I've wanted to fuck you since the first time I saw you......yeah, baby, put that thing all the way inside me......" She wasn't making it any easier to hold back, but I fell into a rhythm, driving my prick into her with long, hard strokes, my pubic bone slamming into her clit every time I felt my cock fill her to her limit. We kissed deeply, her deep fuck moans pushing me to fuck her harder, increasing the speed of my thrusts to meet the frantic gyrations of her hips. Heterochromia "Harder, Micheal! Fuck me like I know you've wanted to! Come on, baby, show me how bad you wanted to fuck this dirty slut.......fuck me like a proper southern cocksucker deserves to be fucked!" Her strong legs were wrapped around me tightly, squeezing me with a death grip as I pounded her harder than I'd ever fucked any woman, her ass bouncing wildly off of the seat of the Buick with every thrust. I could feel jets of fluid shooting out of her pussy as her shreiks of pleasure shattered the pre-dawn air. "Come on, baby, your turn, pump me full.....let me feel you come inside my pussy........oh God........yeah, yeah.......Oh, fuuuuuccccckk...." I fucking exploded; I'd never come like that before, and rarely since. I kept pounding her pussy hard, each thrust shooting another jet of cum into her. I thought it would never end, and didn't want it to. Her moans had decayed into delirium, her body twitching uncontrollably. I finally collapsed onto her, our bodies and lips falling into an exhausted embrace, neither of us wanting to break the perfect intensity of the moment..... Neither of us said much on the drive back, Lorelei nestled in next to me, her hand on my leg, softly singing along with the radio as the sun broke over the rows of rusting factories. I pulled up near a railroad overpass about a block from my place. "Looks like this is my stop, Lorelei. I'm just up the grade from here, and if we drive all the way around just so I can get out in front of my place, it'll take you another half hour to get back on the freeway." She didn't say anything, she just smiled and kissed me longer and deeper than the moment required. "Thanks for a nice evening, Micheal. I'll see you at the shop.........." She seemed to be savoring the moment, knowing that things would be different from that point. I got out of the car, and she slid into the driver's seat, blowing me a kiss as I was about to turn toward my place. I'm not sure why, but I took a step back toward her. "Well, I guess you deserved some fun after missing the ball game." She looked at me for a few seconds, then bit her lip as she looked me dead in the eye and said, "Oh, honey, there was no ball game........" I walked up the grade and down my back alley as I could hear her Buick rumbling off in the distance. I made my way up the back stairs, her sexy voice still singing in my head as I let myself and the neighborhood cat into my apartment. I hit the bathroom to drain the Blue Ribbons, the events of the evening still soaking in. I glanced out the window....... what the fuck?! There was Dale, in his mom's car, parked just across the street. The adrenaline rush slammed through me, having dodged a bullet big time by not bringing Lorelei's car back to my place. The last fucking thing I needed at that moment was to feed his paranoia, justified or not, so I just stripped down to my boxers and headed out the front door like any other neighborhood slob could be doing at six in the morning to grab my newspaper. Once I was outside, I looked across the street at him, feigned a sleepy double take and kind of waved. He didn't even return the gesture, peeling out as he roared off down the street........... I didn't see either of them for a few days. Dale had the differential back in his Mustang, so he'd been there, and there were empty Blue Ribbon cans in the recycling bin, so Lorelei had been around as well. I finally ran into Dale at a bar and grill near the shop one night. "Hey, man," I said as I stepped up to the urinal beside him. "You get lost the other morning? Come by to pay me for the differential and forget your checkbook or something?" He looked over sheepishly, not wanting to admit that he was hanging around to see if Lorelei showed up, or left. "Uh....I dunno.....I was pretty wasted, just drove around.....don't know how I got there..." He was starting to embarrass himself, and I didn't need him to feel any worse. "Well, fuck, man, I'd just put coffee on, you should have come over. Door's always open, y'know." He looked relieved that I didn't seem to give a shit about the matter. "Oh, yeah, I've got your cash, did a great job, Mike......" He kept talking about how much better his Mustang launched with the new gearset, blah, blah, blah......but I was distracted by the fact that the steroids he was obviously on had taken their predictable effect on his dick.....it was fucking huge. He'd always taken heat in the showers after gym class for having a little dick, but that thing was hanging there like the proverbial Polish Sausage. Whatever attraction Lorelei had for him was now pretty apparent....... The next afternoon I showed up at the shop, and Lorelei was just walking out the door as I got out of my car. I didn't see any sign of Dale, but another guy's car was there. She looked totally dishevelled, her blouse hanging open, her makeup smeared, the knees of her jeans and tops of her feet covered in greasy dirt. "Hey, Lorelei, nice to see you...." I tried to not notice the fact she was obviously getting down with some of the other guys around the place, as she wiped a glob of cum off of her chin. "Sorry, Mike......I'm sure I don't look very ladylike right now......." The truth of it was that she looked incredibly hot. "You look fine to me." Her face reddened with embarrassment, looking at me as if she'd hurt my feelings. "Hey, there IS a ballgame today, a doubleheader against the Braves........." She broke into an enormous, little kid smile. "I'll have to go home and clean up!!!!" "No fucking shit. Unless you want to sit with the other hillbillies behind the Braves' bullpen. Then you better pick up a tube top on the way to the park as well." "ASS........HOLE!!!!!!!!!" She slapped me across the arm and told me she'd meet me at a little pub down the street from the ball park. It was the most perfect day for baseball I could ever remember. We had an awesome time, basking in the late summer heat, enjoying each other's company like two kids who became friends at summer camp, knowing that it would probably be over as soon as we headed in our respective directions, in spite of promises to stay in touch....... As August passed it's midway point the temperatures soared, Elvis left the building permanently, and the tension around the shop was getting palpable. Dale knew something was going on with his girlfriend, was drinking constantly, and was becoming more intolerable by the minute. I'd sold my race car and was in the process of getting my shit together to move east, doing as much work as I could handle and spending up to eighteen hours a day at the shop for nearly two weeks straight. Lorelei would come by nearly every day, sometimes just to hang out, sometimes heading into the back where I could hear her getting fucked by one of the other guys. We hooked up frequently, but never at the shop. Most times we'd fuck in her car, or in the basement of the theater she worked at. The sex was wild, more often than not in the theater basement I'd tie her up and fuck her brutally, then pump my load down her throat, spurred on by the fact her breath usually smelled like someone else's cock....... "No, man. You're wasting your time, and money. Your car is as fast as it's gonna get; you don't have the traction to handle more horsepower, and your engine isn't built for it. You'll spend a bunch of money just to break a bunch of pieces. Period." Dale looked at me like I was speaking another language. He'd asked me if putting a Nitrous Oxide system on his Mustang was a good idea, and I gave him my opinion. It was a big, heavy car, and instantly enabling it to produce an extra three hundred horsepower was going to accomplish little more than turn it into a self consuming hammer mill. It didn't matter to him. He took the steroid shortcut with himself and was now the hero of his own little world, and there wasn't a damn thing I'd be able to tell him that would convince him that pursuing the same type of shortcut with his Mustang would be mechanically catastrophic. I told him I wanted nothing to do with it. His two gym rat buddies helped him put the setup on his car that afternoon. On Friday evening, most of the guys that rented space in the shop were hanging out, as well as some of their girlfriends, chilling with some brews as the dense, stifling heat of the previous few days was broken by a thunderstorm. The bay doors were open, letting the cool wind blow through the shop, as Lorelei danced barefoot in a sun dress on the rain soaked pavement out front. I glanced around the shop; you could tell by the way guys were looking at her which ones were fucking her, which were gossiping about her, and which ones jerked off thinking about her. Dale and his buddies were oblivious as they pored over the mess of solenoids and hoses and wiring that promised a massive, magical increase of horsepower. "Heeeeeeyyyyy, Mike!" Fuck, I knew that voice. Jeff Navarro. As far as street racing motherfuckers went, him and his two cousins wrote the book. He walked over toward me, out of the rain, as he glanced back at Lorelei, whose dress had turned transparent and clung to her lithe body. I knew he was here to try and win back the money they'd lost to me back in June. "So.....where's the Dart, Mike?" "Sold it last week, man. Goin' back to school this fall, needed the cash. Would have called to see if you wanted to buy it, but hey, you're all Chevy guys, right?" They were, and their Vega was nothing more than a thinly disguised Pro Stock car. Not only was it brutally fucking fast, Jeff's cousin, Ray, was a really good driver, and his brother Carlos was one of the best engine builders in the country. The fact that I'd beat these guys two out of three with a homebuilt Dodge Dart is still one of the things I can say I'm really proud of. "Shit, man, that's too bad. Ray and Carlos will be coming through tomorrow with the car and it would have been nice to leave town with a bit of cash." He didn't even sound cocky saying it, most of the time they left whatever town they'd passed through with a LOT more cash. "What the fuck makes you think that you're going to leave town with ANYTHING, you fucking spic?" Everyone in the place turned toward Dale, not believing what they'd just heard him say. Guys started clearing away; no one knew what the fuck would happen next. The look on Jeff's face didn't even change. He walked right up to Dale, who was nearly a foot taller. "Now, I'll forgive your bad manners, because I like Micheal, and I'm not going to behave disrepectfully in his shop. But, if this sad fucking excuse for a Mustang is YOURS, then, my stupid fucking polack friend, it will be YOUR cash we will be leaving with. IF, of course, you have the balls......." Dale looked like he was going to explode, his face bright red, veins bulging around his neck and temples. A few of the guys, and myself, stepped in to make sure he didn't do something REALLY stupid, but Jeff stood his ground, cool as a cucumber. "Then we'll see you here tomorrow night, around eight. Nice to see you, Mike." "Good to see you, too, Jeff. Tomorrow, man." I left and headed home, the long days were taking their toll, and I was exhausted. As I showered off the day's sweat and grime, the fact that my life would be radically different in a couple of weeks started to really sink in. I'd be out of this town, out of this rut, away from this tedious bullshit. I thought of the physics and shop teachers, my aunt, some of the old time hot rodders around town who'd tried so hard to get me to believe in my own talents, and it felt good; I had something special. And suddenly I realised that the only other person I knew with something special was Lorelei. I got out of the shower and dried myself off, and went to the fridge to grab a can of Coke. As I passed the front entrance, I noticed a sheet of paper had been slipped under the door. JAM SESSION! EVERY FRIDAY!! BAYLOR'S ROADHOUSE BE THERE!!!! I was so fucking happy, I thought I'd freak out. That girl was gonna give it a shot, and I fucking KNEW that nothing but good would come of it. I got dressed and took off, not wanting to miss a second of it................. The place was a dive, but it had a long reputation as a place where anyone might show up. Johnny Winter had played there, so had Buddy Guy, Buck Owens, Janis Joplin, Glen Campbell, and Joni Mitchell. The house band had more talent than most road bands had, and the place was usually packed by ten on Friday nights. If Lorelei had decided to lay it all on the anvil, she'd set her sights high..........the crowd there didn't suffer fools, or hacks, gladly. I couldn't see her in the crowd, so I found a spot with a pretty decent view of the stage. The house band got up and played a couple of tunes, then the guitar player stepped up to the microphone and announced the first guest. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce to all of you, all the way from Georgia, won't you give it up for......(fumbling with a sheet of paper)...Lauren, is it?, Lorraine....oh, ok, whatever! Here she is..." The audience gave up a smattering of applause, and the band launched into "Heard it Through the Grapevine" as Lorelei took the stage. From the first note that came out of her, the audience was awe struck; she dug into it for all she was worth, owning every note and phrase, squeezing every drop of emotion out of it. This totally kicked the band up a notch, and everyone in the place suddenly knew that they were seeing something that would be talked about for a long time. The place went nuts as the song ended, and you could barely hear the band as they started playing Atlanta Rhythm Section's "So Into You". Again, Lorelei layed into the song, bringing the crowd to the stage as if it were a stadium concert, fists being pumped into the air in celebration of the moment. Lorelei spotted me, turning a little red, then exploding in reponse to the crowd. Like everyone else in the room, I was absolutely blown away......... The place was going wild as she left the stage, chanting "Lauren! Lauren!" and screaming for more as she shyly blew kisses to the audience. A few minutes later she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me outside, shaking loose some oily Paul Schaffer type trying to pitch himself as a talent agent. Once we were in the cool midnight air she went crazy like a little kid who woke up unexpectedly to find it was Christmas morning...... "God, Micheal, that was SO COOL!!!!!! I can't believe those people loved it so much!" She had tears of joy running down her cheeks, and threw her arms around me. I could feel her heart pounding like a jackhammer as I embraced her. Looking into her beautiful eyes I saw far more than the slut I'd come to know in the last summer either of us would spend in that city..... I showed up at the shop just after six the next evening. Dale and his buddies had outdone themselves; they had that Mustang pulling the front end off of the ground when it launched, and it sounded mean. None of them said a word to me, which didn't hurt my feelings any. More of the guys showed up, then Lorelei. She gave me a little wave, but kept pretty close to Dale. Right at eight, the Navarros showed up. "So, it turns out that there's some county fair or carnival thing going on at the speedway this weekend, the dragstrip is closed....." Jeff acted as if nothing happened the day before as he gave a sidelong glance to Dale. "......but, there's a pretty good road down past the old factories." I didn't like the idea of racing on the street at all, but it wasn't my call. I looked over at Dale. "Any fucking time, any fucking place..." He looked as though he was going to add something unwise, until Lorelei grabbed his arm. Ray and Carlos were unloading the Vega off of the trailer, the tunnel rammed big block snarling viciously as they fired it up. Jeff stayed cool and collected, looking at Dale as if he were looking at an animal at the zoo. "So....Dale. You figure you could have beat Mike's Dodge?" "Fucking piece of shit. Easy." He looked at me like I was some scrawny little bitch he could intimidate at the gym. "OK, then. We'll go for what Mike won from us in June." Jeff smiled as he pulled the wad of cash from his pocket and passed it to me. It would be a good chunk of change even today. I counted it, and could see Dale start to sweat; he had no fucking idea what was up for grabs when this shit became serious. "All there." I passed the wad back to Jeff and looked over at Dale. "I'm fucking good for it! You fucking know it, Mike! I just don't walk around with a wad of cash like that, like some fucking.." Jeff held his index finger to his lips in a silent "Shhhhhh", looking Dale right in the eye as Ray cleared the throat of the Vega, the dual Holley carbs settling the engine into a polyrhythmic cacaphony as the smell of Sunoco 260 wafted through the shop. "Yeah, he's been good with the rent and shit." I glanced back at Jeff, who's easy smile had returned, but who's eyes were boring a hole into Dale. He'd also made a point of seriously checking out Lorelei, further grinding a sore spot onto her "boyfriend". "OK, then. Let's go." Jeff and Carlos got into their truck, following the Vega out onto the street. Everyone else got in their cars and followed, Dale's Mustang pulling out just before I did. Lorelei looked over at me from the passenger seat of the Mustang, her head jerking back violently as he laid rubber out of the parking lot....... It was nearly dark by the time we arrived at the spot Jeff had picked, not far from where Lorelei and I had fucked the first time. There wasn't any traffic out there, and the cops rarely bothered to patrol the area. Ray didn't fuck around; once the roadway was clear he staged the Vega and did just enough of a burnout to clear the road dust off of the tires. Dale pulled the Mustang around and into the lane beside Ray, and Lorelei got out of the car. He did a huge burnout, a cloud of acrid smoke hanging in the muggy air as his buddies hooted and hollered. Carlos looked over at him with a scowl on his face, which just made Dale repeat his smokeshow, figuring he could piss off the Navarros by taking his time getting ready. Over by their truck, I could see Jeff grinning; that Vega could sit there all night without overheating or getting fussy, and the longer Dale fucked around, the deeper the hole he'd dig for himself. Finally, he pulled the Mustang to the start line, revving his engine to the redline as one of the guys took a spot on the center line to start the race. His hands went over his head, and the instant they dropped.......... Sometimes, there is little joy in being right. Not that I gave a shit, but while Ray launched that Vega with the skill of a pro like Bob Glidden or Bill Jenkins, Dale's Mustang spat the guts of it's 428 onto the pavement in a sickening mechanical caricature of a projectile vomiting drunk. Jeff and Carlos came over with fire extinguishers, and Dale's buddies got him out of the car, but that was the end of that particular drama. A minute later, Ray returned, giving Dale a big sarcastic thumbs up as he steered the evil little Chevy around the greasy mechanical carnage spread around the start line. Once we knew that there was no chance of anything catching fire, Jeff came over to Dale, whose buddies were flanking him. Sensing an "issue", Ray and Carlos took their place on either side of Jeff, who said nothing, he just extended his hand, palm up. Beads of sweat started to form on Dale's forehead, reflecting the light of the streetlamps like sequins. I looked him in the eye. "Quit fucking around, man. I'M the one who said you were good for it, goddammit. Now fucking pay up." I was pissed, not only at Dale, but at myself for not making him show the cash beforehand. Lorelei stepped into the shadows, obviously embarrassed. Heterochromia "Well, no problem, guys. No problem. Carlos, pull the truck over and winch our Mustang onto the trailer." Jeff didn't seem too worried, but Dale started freaking out. "Fuck off!!! You can't take my car, you fucking asshole!" He was starting to panic, and got the same look on his face as he did when he'd dropped an easy fly ball because he was grandstanding when we were in the State High School finals.....and cost us the game. "OK, man, then just fucking pay up." Carlos didn't say much, but people tended to listen when he did. Dale and his two buddies literally dumped the contents of their wallets on the hood of the Mustang, scraping together barely half of what they owed the Navarros. Dale brought the crumpled wad of cash over to me, as if I could somehow make an excuse for him. "Are you fucking SERIOUS? Why the FUCK didn't you have the cash ready, man?" "I.....uh, thought that..." He was close to tears. "YOU THOUGHT YOU'D FUCKING BEAT THESE GUYS, DIDN'T YOU?!!!!!!!!" "Hey, Mike, it's not on you, man, don't sweat it, we're cool." Jeff then went over to the trailer and started to pull the winch hook loose. Then he looked at Dale and told him that his sister had wanted a Mustang for a while. "No! Not my car! Come on, guys, we gotta be able to work something out..." His gym rats had slipped into the shadows, and he stood alone in an expanding pool of 20-50 Pennzoil. "OK, man. Here's the deal. You only have half the cash. You have a car with a blown motor. So, either my sister has a Mustang, which is going to make me the best big brother a girl ever had, or, you hand over whatever cash you have, and..........." Jeff looked over at Lorelei with an expression that needed no clarification. She looked at Dale, then at me............. "BUT MY PARENTS BOUGHT ME THAT CAR FOR GRADUATION!!!!!!!!" Lorelei looked as if she'd been sucker punched, the entire group emitting a disgusted gasp. "Fair enough." Jeff stepped away from the trailer, allowing Ray to pull the Vega onto it. Lorelei asked if she could ride back to the shop with me, which was cool with Jeff. A few minutes later, Dale stood alone on the cracking asphalt, miles from anyone, the oil slick beneath the Mustang stinking of shame and burnt metal. Lorelei was quiet, her feelings obviously hurt, but trying to make some sense of the situation. "I guess I probably deserve this, huh? I mean, I havn't been a very good girlfriend to Dale." "He's a fucking idiot. If he was worthy of someone like you, I'm sure you'd have treated him better." I didn't care about Dale at all, and was tired of being diplomatic in my opinion of him, and of morons in general. "Look, Mike, I know that you said that you'd like to watch me get gang banged, but, would it be OK if you, kind of made yourself scarce once we get back to the shop? I mean, if we don't see each other again after you leave for school, I'd rather you remember me kickin' ass on stage at Baylor's last night, not bein' some cheap slut that got fucked because her boyfriend lost a drag race....." I looked over at her, wondering if she'd ever bother getting up on a stage again. She looked so fragile, even behind her brave face. We pulled into the shop parking lot, the Navarros the only other ones there. "Go inside. I gotta talk to these guys for a second.........I'll see you later, OK?" She nodded without looking at me, then got out of the car and headed inside. Then I got out and walked over to the Navarro's truck...... Lorelei stripped and sat with her legs spread on the edge of an old weight bench in what was once a stockroom in the back of the shop. The room was windowless and stiflingly hot, the oily stench of sixty years of spilled petrochemicals mixing with the sour, musky funk of anal sex. A single, unfrosted light bulb hung fron the ceiling, the floor strewn with condom wrappers and empty Polaroid film boxes. She stared at the floor in front of her, looking up with fatalistic resignation as the door opened.... "Well, I do say, my dear, that is no way to be dressed if I'm gonna take you to the carnival, now is it?" It was my best attempt at a southern accent, and I knew it sucked. Lorelei bit her lower lip, then grabbed her dress and ran across the dirty floor and threw her arms around me. I'd settled up with the Navarros, telling them I'd collect from Dale myself (which I never did, it felt better to let him think that Lorelei had paid for his stupidity). I also gave them some tools and stuff that I wouldn't need for a while. I knew these guys depended on the cash they made doing this, and that Ray and Carlos were both married with little kids. And, I knew that whatever respect they were shown was always payed back tenfold............ Lorelei looked at me, her hand caressing my face as she seemed to be thinking of the right way of telling me something without hurting my feelings. Finally, she just pursed her lips, and told me what was on her mind. "Honey, with all due respect, you should avoid tryin' to speak with a southern accent. You sound more like Foghorn Leghorn than Rhett Butler...." I replied, and it was the last time I ever attempted to sound like I was from the land of cotton... "Is that, I say, is that how you see me? Just a big white cock?" It sank in for about one second, then she smiled and slapped me across the arm, and called me an asshole...... I'd never enjoyed a carnival as much as I did that night, a beautiful woman on my arm as we sauntered through the crowd, eating our fill of cotton candy and risking our lives on every shaky deathtrap on the midway. The sideshows were anticlimactic, but thrilling for that very reason; to see the looks on the faces of the simple rural folk as they gasped at the sword swallowers and bearded women was to see the fact that folks lived their lives between very narrow parameters. As we walked back to the parking lot, Lorelei turned to me and kissed me like I'd never been kissed, both of us bathed in the glow of colored flourescent tubes and the sound of barkers and girls shrieking on the roller coaster. The muggy air had taken on a familiar chill; soon the shrieking girls would be swapping secrets about boys before classes, leaves would be turning, and kids would be waiting for the Christmas catalogues to come out. And I'd be in Pennsylvania, starting a new life. The only thing that mattered at that moment, however, was the woman leaning her head on my shoulder as we walked back to her old Buick. We went back to my apartment and made love for hours, filling ourselves with the other's tastes and smells, savoring every moment of ecstasy until she fell asleep in my arms. I layed awake, holding her silky skin against me until dawn, when I got out of bed to let the cat in and fix something to eat. "Hey, Sunshine, time for breakast!" She rolled over, pulling the covers over her head, until she realised that she was getting breakfast in bed. "Oh my God! Nobody's EVER brought me breakfast in bed!" I love the way a woman looks in the morning after being well fucked the night before...... I crawled back into bed and had breakfast with her, talking about the future, where I'd be living when I got to school, what she was going to do. Then the cat jumped up onto the bed, creeping up toward us in hopes of getting a few drops of milk or attention. "My, aren't you a handsome thing.....oh my God! He's got eyes like mine!" Lorelei was delighted by the fact the tough old bastard had one pretty blue siamese eye and one yellow one that looked more bobcat than anything else. She scooped him into her arms, which he just let her do. Kind of surprizing, actually; he really wasn't the touchy/feely type. "So, are you takin' him with you?" I hadn't thought much about it. He was here when I moved in, and the landlady said he was here when she bought the place. He'd kind of picked me as his human, and I'd taken him to the vet to make sure his shots were up to date and the vet told me that he'd been neutered, so he was someone's pet.....at one time. He'd also lost a couple of toes and the tips of his ears to frost or urban combat. "I guess not. Want a cat?" School was incredible; my life was changed in so many ways so quickly. Within days of being there I had met some of the most amazing people, and over the course of the first semester I had learned more than I'd learned in my whole life. Not a week went by when I didn't get a letter from Lorelei, who had taken it upon herself to mirror what she was doing with my life. She'd moved back to Georgia, was making connections, getting gigs as a background singer, was seriously studying piano and music theory, and was mind bogglingly happy. I'd write her that I'd driven out and seen Frank Lloyd Wright's "Fallingwater", or met one of my heroes like Smokey Yunick, and then I'd hear back from her, her handwriting giddy, telling me she'd met Carly Simon or Neil Young.......... I'd just started dating my future wife, and as we were headed out for an evening, I pulled out one of my favorite CDs and slipped it into the player. My girl was VERY impressed, and told me in no uncertain terms that if she was ever going to make it with another woman, Lauren Baylor was not only on the short list, she WAS the list... "Yeah, she's a friend of mine.........and yeah, she's pretty fucking hot." "SERIOUSLY?!! How the HELL do you know Lauren Baylor?!!" "Lorelei Beauregard, actually. I met her the summer before I left for school, she was dating some guy I knew." My girl sat there dumbfounded, holding the CD case for "Heterochromia" in her hands, poring over the cover shots; Lorelei's eyes on the front, and the eyes of a grizzled cat, one siamese blue, one bobcat yellow, on the back. "Are her eyes really like that? They are fucking AMAZING!" "Yup. His eyes are, too. That's my old cat on the back." "Bullshit.......really?" "Really. You can ask her yourself. She's playing here next week, and we're going for dinner. I'm sure she'd love to meet you, she was really happy when I told her I was dating someone cool." She sat there with her mouth hanging open, still trying to absorb the fact. After a few seconds, she turned and looked at me. "God, I know it sounds stupid, but do you think she'll like me?" I looked at the woman in the seat beside me, the way her blond hair framed her pretty face, her velvet smooth skin, her long, supple legs. In the heat of the summer evening I could smell the delicious sweetness of her body. "Yeah, I think you two will really get along.............."