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.