Heterochromia

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Two friends leave their pasts behind them.
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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.