...That's My Car

*Author's Note: Any

*Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself utilizing Microsoft Spell-check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

*If you find female bisexuality offensive, kindly hit your backspace key now.

**.**

The cloying scent of jasmine was in his car again. It wasn't actual jasmine; it was a chemically created jasmine scent.

Justine Hennessey wore vanilla scented lotion. A former boyfriend, Chad LaPointe had bought her a large bottle of the lotion as a joke, claiming that vanilla ice cream was almost as white as her.

"Ha ha," she had groused but gave the lotion a sniff. "Ooh! I like, here, smell this."

Chad had also bought her a bottle of Liquid Paper, telling her she could use it as cosmetics. That had been mildly cute but mostly annoying. Justine recognized that the jokes, the jibes, the denigrating remarks were thinly disguised aggressions and called an end to their nine month long relationship.

"What? God damn! What the fuck? Jesus; can't take a fucking joke?" Chad had snarled angrily.

"I can take a joke just as well as the next girl. But when it's joke after joke after joke at my expense? Then it's not a joke, it's an aggression," Justine had said. "It's emotional abuse. And I'm not willing to put up with it. Chad? You're not that cute."

"Look in a mirror, toothpick?" Chad had spat. "You ain't that cute either. See you around, no-tits."

At five feet two inches, Justine was slim with very pale features. Her hair was whitish blonde, her eyes were a pale blue, her nose was slim and her pale pink lips were a bowtie.

Justine's chest was a 26A, her waist was twenty three inches around; Chad had loved showing that he could put his hands completely around her slim waist. Her hips and buttocks were mere swells, just twenty five inches around.

"Have to run around in the shower to get wet," her dad would tease her.

"Hush! Women everywhere starve themselves to death to look as good as her," her mom would say.

The 'no-tits' comment did sting a little; Justine kept hoping she'd hit that growth spurt that would give her a chest to rival their mother's chest, equal her sister Juliette's 34D. The only reason Justine even bothered to wear a bra was because of her hypersensitive pale pink nipples. Just the slightest friction would cause her areolae to constrict and her nipples to protrude a very noticeable seven sixteenths of an inch.

The 'no-tits' remark did hurt. But, even though the lotion had come from Chad, Justine continued to use vanilla scented lotion and even found vanilla scented soaps from A & A Soaps.

The Brick's Pizzeria on Barcelona had a video arcade attached; Justine did not feel like cooking and did feel like blowing off a little steam. Richard agreed to go for a large Meatstravaganza, a couple of beers, and to totally and thoroughly dominate and humiliate her on a few of the video games. And, upon opening the passenger door of his sedan, Justine smelled the cloying scent of jasmine.

"Richard, why's your car smell like Jasmine?" Justine asked, seeing the 'pine tree' air freshener dangling from the rear view mirror.

"Shit, how you can smell anything over that vanilla stuff you wear?" Richard said, starting the car.

"No, I'm serious; I smelled it right when I opened the door; wait. Wait until the garage door goes all the way down," Justine said, twisting and looking over her shoulder as the garage door slowly made its way down.

From driveway to parking lot, Richard talked about the crushing defeat he would deliver on the video games. Justine was grateful for the distraction; March and April were always grueling for any accountant. In truth, the momentum began in December; those end-of-the-year rushes. The holidays provided scant respite, then the January push to send out all notices and statements, February was dedicated to correcting any errors in their January efforts, then, when the customer base was satisfied, for the most part, the internal melee began. Even though this was Justine's third year at Boyd Investment Group, it was still a bit overwhelming.

"Supposed to let your wife win," Justine grumbled as they stepped out into the cool night air.

"God, don't think I was trying?" Richard lied. "Had my eyes closed the whole time."

"You lie! OH how you lie," Justine squealed.

She struggled, a little when Richard enveloped her in a big hug. She laughed when he kissed her, then squealed when he licked her nose.

"Ew! You know I hate that!" she screamed, wiping his spittle from her nose.

Inside of their home, he again made her squeal when he 'tackled' her then picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. Falling across their bed, Justine and Richard frantically undressed each other then began kissing one another's flesh.

Frederick and Giselle Tennirjen volunteered at the Food Bank every weekend that they could. On the holidays most people dedicated to stuffing themselves then flopping into the nearest recliner, Frederick and Giselle were at the local homeless shelter, preparing and serving meals. "

Frederick had a backpack stuffed with Matchbox ™ cars. Giselle had a backpack with coloring books and eight pack Crayola ™ crayon boxes. As the parents and children sat to eat, Giselle walked around and gave each child their own coloring book and pack of crayons. Frederick gave each child a Matchbox car.

"Kids need something to fuel their imagination," Giselle said.

"Kids need something they can call their own," Frederick agreed.

Justine Tennirjen met Richard Hennessey when she joined her mother, father, older sister and future brother in law in the kitchen of the homeless shelter. Her own backpack held small bags of marbles for the boys and small bags of jacks for the girls. Juliette's backpack held small bags for the children to put their largesse into. And each bag held a small bottle of bubbles.

"Buddy of mine had a bachelor party," Richard admitted as he diced onions. "Blew right through a stop sign and then failed the field sobriety test."

"Hmm," Justine said.

"Believe me, learned my lesson," Richard said, spooning some gravy onto the mashed potatoes on the tray that Justine handed him.

Richard was pulled into the kitchen again while the Tennirjen family circulated among the families. Someone put a scouring pad into his hand and pointed at the pot that had held the mashed potatoes.

"I can have me a coloring book?" an old man asked, hope in his eyes.

"You want a coloring book?" Giselle asked the obviously mentally challenged man.

"Yes ma'am. I color real good; I stays in the lines and everything," the man agreed.

"Would you like some marbles?" Justine asked, blinking back her tears.

"Here, Buddy," Frederick said, handing the man a small car. "Now, you don't drive that too fast, you hear?"

"God bless you," the old man sobbed, overwhelmed with his good fortune.

"He already has," Frederick told the man as he put his arm around Giselle.

"I, I don't believe I've ever seen anything like that," Richard said, wiping at his eyes when the Tennirjen family returned to the kitchen to assist with the clean-up.

"Well, see? There's a reason you got that DUI," Justine said.

"Why I stay in here, Dr. James Thibodaux admitted as Juliette playfully swatted him on his backside. "Seeing some of those people, their suffering? No, no, think I'd rather scrub out a couple of pots, thank you very much."

Their first date was a cycling date; Richard still had some fines to pay before he could have his driver's license reinstated. Their second date was a picnic at Mouton Park, complete with swinging on the swings. They both admitted they were too big for the slides and the merry go round held no appeal for Justine.

Their third date was in Richard's apartment where Richard attempted to impress Justine with his culinary skills. Smiling softly, Justine took the spatula out of his hand and completed the simple meal.

That date ended in his bedroom. Chad had thought he was a skilled pussy eater. Richard was a skilled pussy eater. And knew how to use his fingers as well as his tongue. His cock was average size but he also knew how to use that as well. Justine did not argue when Richard insisted on using condoms.

"Wait, you, are you some kind of genius or something?" Richard asked a few months later when Justine invited him to her graduation from the University of Louisiana at DeGarde with a double major, accounting and finances.

"Or something," Justine shrugged. "Richard, I just studied a lot."

"Yeah, but a double major? And you're what? Only twenty years old?" Richard asked.

"So? I started college at seventeen," Justine said.

Since Justine had been given a full scholarship to the University, the college fund her parents and grandparents had set up for her were hers to do with as she pleased. Tammy Hale was an attractive, vivacious red head real estate agent that showed them around DeGarde, Kimble, Bender and Pinoak. 1224 Caledonia had everything Justine wanted, including an in-ground swimming pool.

Wow. I should, I need to ask you to marry me," Richard said when he walked around, admiring Justine's new home.

"Where's the ring? Oh, and you need to ask my father for his permission," Justine said. "And look! Gas! Sorry, Richard, I know you like your apartment, but I hate that stove. Gas is, I don't know, it's just the right way to cook."

Richard did ask Frederick for his permission. Frederick asked Richard to wait for one year before the wedding and Richard grudgingly agreed.

"No, no living together before the wedding; I know she's a grown woman, but I simply cannot and will not condone that," Frederick said firmly to Richard. "And, yes sir, there will be a pre-nuptial agreement."

"What's he going do if we do live together?" Richard asked Justine, hoping to get out of another year of paying rent for a cramped one bedroom apartment.

"They won't pay for the wedding, they won't come to the wedding, and he won't give me away at the wedding," Justine said simply. "SO, there will be no wedding."

"And this pre-nup; Jesus! You understand any of this?" Richard asked, thumping the thick sheaf of papers on the kitchen table.

"Yes. What do you want to know?" Justine asked, picking up the twenty three page document.

"So, how's your job going?" Richard asked, seeing he would win no points with Justine Tennirjen by arguing against her father's stipulations.

"Oh my God, Martin Boyd is a genius!" Justine gushed and launched into a discussion about his business acumen.

The wedding was a beautiful wedding. The honeymoon in Hawaii was idyllic. Richard made Justine laugh out loud when he bought horribly gaudy Hawaiian shirts for Frederick, Giselle, James and Juliette as souvenirs of their trip to Hawaii.

"Know what you need?" Richard asked on Saturday, April 16th.

"A bullet to the head?" Justine groaned. "And you know it's not over. Next week? All next week there's boing be all these people forgot about this and forgot about that. And, want to make sure the IRS flags you for an audit? File for an extension two years in a row. I promise, they will come sniffing around."

"You need a big old steak lunch at Side By Side," Richard claimed.

"We're doing lunch at the shelter today," Justine reminded him.

"Know what? Them people will be fine one day without you," Richard grumbled.

"I'm sure they will," Justine said, crawling out of bed, displaying her pale figure. "But will I? Richard, I don't do that for them. I do it for me."

"I know, I know," Richard grumbled as he watched Justine's sweet little ass walk to the bathroom.

He hesitated for a moment; he wanted to join her in her large walk-in shower. She firmly shut the door, her signal that she was using the commode first. Richard padded down the stairs to the kitchen to start the coffee.

"Car's been acting up a little," Richard said as they stepped into the garage.

"Oh. Okay; probably all them miles you're putting on it," Justine said, digging her car keys out of her bottomless purse and handing them to Richard.

"Mm hmm; and got a few sales calls in Myndee next week," Richard said, starting her car.

"Next week?" Justine cried out. "Richard! You, you just got back from Oak Tree."

"Oakleaf. Oakleaf, Texas. I have no idea where Oak Tree is," Richard said, watching the garage door go down.

"Hmm. Might be a new territory for you," Justine teased. "Look it up; Oak Tree, mm, Alaska?"

By Thursday, Richard's car was barely limping. Justine was also limping along, brain fried by the mad pace at work. Justine was happy to see her husband when he arrived home and greeted him warmly. She followed him as he drove the car to Straughter's Nissan, then drove them to Manny's for a Mexican dinner.

"And bet I will spank the pants off of you at bowling," Justine bragged as they ate.

"Aw, your butt!" Richard laughed. "You forget? I, I am the bowling master? I am the bowling god?"

"And never managed to break a hundred yet? Um, must be a hell of a God," Justine said. "Oh, oh, I'm off tomorrow; one of those stupid 'use them or lose them' thingies."

After leaving the restaurant, Justine and Richard held hands walking from Manny's to the Bowl-A-Rama. They continued with their friendly banter; his humiliation would be complete and Performance 12 would send out a news crew. Richard claimed that her demise would be total and merciless.

"Hey, back again?" the old woman asked as Richard placed his and Justine's shoes onto the counter.

"What? What's she mean?" Justine asked as they walked to Lane 14.

"Hmm?" Richard asked. "Guess you just grab any ball or something."

"At the counter; she asked you if you were back again," Justine said, pointing over her shoulder at the counter.

"Hmm? Shit, I don't know; ask her," Richard shrugged.

Justine wondered just how sanitary the shoes were, or those finger holes on the bowling balls. Justine wondered aloud just how often they cleaned the finger holes on bowling balls.

"Supposed to let your wife win," Justine grumbled as they left the bowling alley.

"I tried, but as the bowling god, if I had lost? There would be earthquakes and blizzards, California would have fallen into the sea..." Richard crowed.

"And you would have gotten some pussy tonight," Justine said. "No chance of that now. But, uh, you just be proud of that one twenty two there, Mr. Hennessey."

"Well, you were going get all kind of dick, but really? An eighty nine?" Richard smirked. "An eighty nine? No. Not even if you begged me, I would not make love to you."

"What? Yeah, like I would ever have to beg," Justine scoffed as they pulled onto Highway 52.

"NO. I'm being serious. Go ahead. Beg. I will tell you no. And do you know why? Because you got an eighty nine. Go ahead. Beg, see what happens," Richard taunted.

"Fine," Justine said, voice flat and unemotional. "Oh Richard, the bowling god. Please, please take me to bed and ravish my body."

"Well, since you said 'please,'" Richard said and laughed when Justine slapped his shoulder.

Empty threats aside, they did make love. After all, he had been out of town on sales calls. Afterward, they lay entwined in each other's arms, just enjoying the warmth and closeness.

"You uh, you ever think we might get around to having a couple of kids?" Richard softly asked, rubbing her concave belly.

"Yeah, of course. Like I told you, in a couple of years," Justine agreed. "Sweetheart? Right now? I'm not established enough in my department; crap, I'm still the new kid."

"Wait any longer, going have get some canned air blow the dust out of that womb," Richard stated.

"Oh my God you are a complete and utter moron," Justine said.

"And you married me; what's that say about you?" Richard teased.

"That I'm very forgiving?" Justine said.

In the morning, Richard asked if he could borrow Justine's car; his own car wouldn't be ready until Monday at the earliest. Since Justine had the day off, she nodded her approval.

"Anyone asks you why you're driving a baby blue Lexus, what you going to tell them?" she smirked.

"That I'm pitching for the other team?" Richard suggested, putting his coffee mug into the dishwasher.

"Uh, frosted baby blue? No, Sweetheart. That color means you the catcher, not the pitcher," Justine informed him.

"Hmm? Well, if the sale's big enough..." Richard hinted.

"You ain't nothing but a ho," Justine agreed and kissed him before he left the kitchen.

The household chores did not take long; Justine had done most of the lighter duties while Richard was out of town. Then, bored, Justine decided to cycle. The weather was mild enough so she wore shorts and a wife beater shirt.

"Really need to get someone out to look at that," Justine muttered to herself as the garage door took a few minutes to creep down.

St. Ann and St. Elizabeth Parishes were promising to create bike trails along Highways 52 and 54. Justine rode along the back roads parallel to Highway 54 until she reached Highway 27. Then she swung south, using the bike trail along Highway 27.

Veering off of 27, Justine circled Mouton Park. Looking around, she realized she was one block away from Richard's old apartment building. Smiling, she pedaled past the building, even glancing at the familiar door. Then, glancing to the left, she squeezed the brake for her rear wheel, pumping the brake for the front wheel.

In front of the corner drugstore was a frosted baby blue Lexus SUV. Standing next to the sparkly car was a small red headed woman. Looking both ways, Justine pedaled slowly across the street and approached the car.

Sure enough, there was the 'New Orleans Saints' license plate holder holding her license plate. And, there was her Student's Parking Permit affixed to the rear bumper; Justine kept intending to remove the faded parking sticker but had not done so yet.

"Hi! Your car?" Justine asked the red headed woman.

"Hmm? No, no, it's my fiancé's car, well, actually? It's his buddy's car; Andy's car is in the shop and his buddy's letting him borrow the car," the cute girl said, smiling widely.

"I'm a Buddy, huh?" Justine thought, seeing her Mardi Gras beads hanging from the rear view mirror.

"And he said I couldn't get into his buddy's car wearing my jasmine lotion so he came here to get me some other stuff, see, I really had to tinkle; yeah, I know, I'm only four months along, but I swear, every ten seconds I got to tinkle and..." the girl continued to prattle.

"Jasmine? You like jasmine, huh?" Justine asked.

"Uh huh; been my favorite like forever. Anyway, I finished up and so just walked over here; Andy's just about done getting some vanilla stuff for me," the girl agreed.

"Said your boyfriend's name is Andy?" Justine asked, looking toward the door of the drugstore.

"Fiance," the girl corrected, showing Justine a fairly nice engagement ring. "We been together about six months and when I got pregnant, oh! Oh my mother was so mad; kicked me out of her house, said wasn't no room for no little whores in her good Christian home so Andy said he had an apartment right over there?"

"Apartment two oh two?" Justine guessed.

"Uh...yeah," the girl said, confused.

"Hi, Andy," Justine said when Richard Andrew Hennessey exited the drugstore, plastic bag in hand.

"Shit," Richard said.

"Yeah, was riding by, saw your buddy's car, thought I'd say 'hi' to your buddy," Justine smiled. "Then I met your fiancé; wow, I didn't even know you were engaged; congratulations!"

"I uh," Richard said.

"By the way, I'm Justine," Justine said to the red head, holding out her hand. "Justine Hennessey."

"Hi! I'm Adelaide, Adelaide Voisen. No, not Addie, God I hate that," Adelaide said, shaking Justine's hand.

"So great to meet you, Adelaide. Hey, any friend of Andy's is a friend of mine," Justine smiled. "You know, you and me and Andy and my husband Richard really need to get together some time."