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My mother was acting strangely. She had been for the last month or so, though not in any overt manner, no specific ways that stuck out, but in much more subtle ways that anybody who didn't know her as well as I do after eighteen years would ever notice. Other than bitching at me about little things, (growing up, learning the meaning of 'responsibility', getting a job, how I'm so impossible) it was as though something had been on her mind, distracting her and, while we didn't dislike each other, our relationship wasn't close enough for a mother-daughter talk about it. That early evening, however, her behaviour was even more irregular than it had been. It was in the way she carried herself, how she stood, moved and in her facial expressions. Most of all, it was in her attire.

Again, the differences were subtle, but obvious to one who knew Vanessa Griffin and her staunch routine of years. An off-white, short sleeved blouse that I hadn't seen outside her closet in a few years was chosen as that evening's top. It was just a little small on what had become her pleasantly curvy figure, the reason she'd left it hiding away, but it only showed in how its buttons strained slightly around those proud D cups. She even left the top two undone rather than fasten the thin garment up so far as to practically choke herself to death as usual. Looking close, I could even just barely make out the lace pattern of her white bra underneath and, from what I could tell, it didn't look like a granny bra.

She'd left the blouse untucked, the short tails resting nicely just above her rounded hips in a manner that accentuated them as much as the black business skirt, one I'd never seen her wear to her job as receptionist at the Audi dealership. It's not that the skirt was indecent in any way, no more than her blouse, but its hem rode a few inches above her knees rather than just below. A six inch slit up the back added to its understated sexy appeal, and the open toed, black, three inch heels that added to her natural five-seven height finished the ensemble in a way that they never spoke for her usual outfits.

Her long, auburn hair, usually worn up, was now down and flowing over her shoulders, straight but somehow not lacking body. Green eyes complimented a face that was attractive despite how it's shapely mouth and full lips almost never smiled since she and my father divorced. Also, her makeup was applied differently, more vividly I might have said, and her whole look made it seem almost as though she was trying to attract attention, not that she needed to. I knew she was hot and I'd noticed plenty of guys checking her out on many an occasion.

Yes, something was definitely going on and, that evening, I was becoming more curious about it by the minute. Clickety-clicking on her laptop at the kitchen island, she performed a double take at me from the corner of her eye as I peered at her from the doorway.

"Darin, what are you doing?" she asked, irritated, but also vaguely paranoid at my attention. "I told you, I've got an appointment at eight that I can't miss. If you want a ride to the mall, you'd better be ready in fifteen minutes."

"What appointment?" I asked as her eyes returned to the screen.

(Clickety-clickety-click) "The garage." (Clickety-clickety-clickety)

"I thought the car was fixed," I casually challenged.

More irritated, she quickly replied, "They had to order parts, would you please get your ass in gear?"

"Al-right, jeez!"

I was mostly ready anyway, save for finishing up with my hair, black like my father's and a little shorter than hers where it rested at my shoulders, and the choice of an outfit suitable to cruising the mall with my friends. I chose a pair of black capris leggings with a pink T shirt that was long enough to just barely cover the bottom of my shapely, fit posterior. The V neck wasn't quite as low as I would have wanted, but I'd never get anything lower past Mom's critical inspection and it still looked great on me. A wide, black belt with a big, round, gold buckle accentuated my hips and a pair of zebra striped Mary-Jane heels finished my look perfectly.

Checking this ensemble in the mirror, I wished I'd inherited Mom's boob size along with the bright green eyes that looked back at me, but my perky Cs looked fabulous in that top and went with my athletic hips very well. I wasn't quite as tall or voluptuous as my mother, but I was happy and comfortable with my body and enjoyed showing it off.

I gave myself a little smile as I considered bringing another top in order to do an end-run around the fashion gestapo downstairs, but I didn't want to be weighed down with a pack. Grabbing my small, rectangular, black clutch instead, I left my room just as said gestapo yelled at me to hurry, or I'd be left behind.

As it was, she shook her head slightly, rolling her eyes in silent disapproval of my outfit, but I pretended not to notice, practically skipping past her, through the kitchen and to the adjoined garage. By the time she was beside me in the driver's seat of her red coupe, whatever it was that had her so distracted had removed my appearance from her mind and, by the time she turned out onto the street, I was back to wondering at that.

I surreptitiously watched her nervously tapping the steering wheel with her index finger as she drove, nibbling at the inside of her lower lip, and my curiosity finally got the better of me.

"So, what's eating you?" I asked with indifference in my tone.

"What?" she replied, a little startled at first, as though she'd forgotten I was even there.

"Something's on your mind."

"Why do you say that?" she asked, clearly defensive now.

"Because there is. I can tell."

"There's nothing on my mind," she lied.

"Sure," I sarcastically agreed, half interestedly checking out a cute guy walking down the sidewalk as we passed.

"I'm worried about the car and how much it'll cost," she lied again.

"Uh huh," I laughed. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were going out on a date or something."

She jerked her head around to look at me and I almost laughed again at expression on her face.

"Don't be ridiculous," she scoffed. "I told you, I'm nervous about the car."

"What's so ridiculous about you going on a date?"

"W- Nothing, It's just that that isn't the case."

I sighed, shaking my head and rolling my eyes, saying, "Whatever. Anyway, why don't you just get it fixed at work? Wouldn't they give you an employee discount or something?"

She snorted derisively and replied, "They don't work on Chevrolets and dealerships are the last place anybody should take their car for repairs, employee discount or no."

I laughed again at the irony of her statement, considering her occupation, but didn't follow her up on it. Flipping the visor down, I used the vanity mirror to check my makeup, asking, "So where are you taking it, then? And what kinda place is open at this hour?

"Wheeling Auto service," she replied. "It's a private business, so they work late."

"How'd you find out about them?"

"The internet."

"Hm. Well, I hope they're honest."

"I think he is," she toned.

"'He'?"

"Dave. He runs the place. (Ahem)"

This time I was the one to jerk my head around at her, a knowing grin spreading across my face at how she'd nervously cleared her throat just then.

"Is he cute?"

She glanced at me without meeting my eyes, the ghost of a guilty smile leaping to her features for an instant before she could squash it, and replied with a more severe expression, "Darin... He's just a mechanic, alright?"

"Geez, Mom, lighten up. We're just talking. ... "So, is he?"

She only shook her head, a dismissal to my question rather than an answer, but that smile returned and wasn't so easily gotten rid of this time. Neither was I.

"Mom?"

"You're way off base," she said, giving up on getting rid of that smile.

"Oh, I don't think so. I bet he's tall and dark with big muscular arms like those guys on the covers of your trash novels. Isn't he, Mom?"

We'd come to a halt at a stop sign, she being stubbornly silent on the matter at hand, and I was about to continue my teasing inquiry when the car sputtered and died.

"Oh, shit!" she swore. "Don't you do this to me, you...!"

Slapping the gear selector all the way ahead to the park position, she twisted the ignition, the only result being a 'rur, rur, rur, rur, rur' sound as the engine turned over, but absolutely refused to start.

"Please, please, please, not now?!" she desperately begged.

(Rur, rur, rur, rur, rur, rur, rur, rur, rur, rur, rur, rur, rur, rur-)

The car behind us hit the horn and Mum almost went nuclear.

"Oh, shut up! Can't you see I'm having trouble, you-?!"

And then it fired up. We both breathed a sigh of relief and she switched the transmission back to drive so we could get moving again, for however long.

Dammit, dammit, dammit!" she fumed. "Millions of dollars in bailouts from two countries and those blasted morons still can't build a decent car! Should have told them to go to hell! Should have let them go out of business! God damned, rotten, useless, good for nothing boneheads! Should have listened to your uncle Stanley and bought that used BMW, but no, I had to have this brand new, shiny red piece of shit!"

"Mom?"

"What, Darin?! What?!"

"Whatever this Dave guy looks like, you should totally go out with him because you really need to get laid."

I thought she was going to hit me. I mean, I really thought she was going to punch me right in my pretty little face. After totally flipping out and threatening dire consequences if I said another word between there and the mall, I wisely kept my mouth shut until we rolled up to The Pen Centre's main entrance.

By that time, however, I was no longer really interested in the mall. No, I wanted to see what was up with my tightly wound mother and this 'appointment' of hers, so I decided to worm my little way into her business.

"They're not here," I said with a frown, scanning the entrance for Kendra and Tiffany, this being no surprise to me as I was supposed to meet them inside at New York Fries.

"They're probably inside," she correctly ventured, that heavier stress beginning to creep back into her tone.

"No," I refuted, "we were supposed to meet up right here, but..."

"Darin, I can't wait, it's almost ten to eight and I have to-"

"Well, they're not here, what am I supposed to do?" I almost whined at her.

"They're probably running a little late; just wait for them and they'll be along," she impatiently advised.

"But, what if they don't show up? I can't hang out by myself! Like a loser!"

"Oh my god!" she grated in pure frustration, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Call them, or text them, or whatever the hell because I have to go before the god damned car stalls again, this time maybe for good!"

I opened my little clutch to grab my phone, turning the ring volume off as I pretended to briefly rifle through its other contents.

"Oh no!" I lamented.

"Now what?"

"I forgot my phone!"

She stared at me as though I'd just told her that I was pregnant with Uncle Stanley's baby.

"What?!" she asked incredulously. "Look again!"

I held up the little black clutch, emphasizing its limited confines while I emphatically determined, "It's not here, Mom!"

"Darin, for chrissakes, they'll be along! Now, get out of the car so I can-"

"No! You don't know that! I'm not gonna sit around waiting like an idiot, without even my cellphone when they might not even-"

"I can't take you with me, would you please just get out so I can go?!"

"Why?!" I demanded, actually wanting to know why she couldn't take me along to what was supposed to be just an appointment at a garage. "Anyway, this is all your fault! If you weren't bugging me to hurry before we left, I wouldn't have forgotten-!

She stomped the gas pedal to the floor, slamming me into the seatback. I wouldn't have thought her car had enough power to screech the tires, but I guess I was wrong.

"Hey! Mom, what the hell are you-?!"

"Shut up, Darin!" she shouted at me, spittle flying from her livid mouth, "I mean it, just shut the hell up right now, or we're going to the river so I can drown you in it! God dammit, you are so impossible!"

My mission accomplished, I shut up, looking out the side window and pretending to pout so she wouldn't see me trying not to laugh.

Just over ten minutes later, we pulled off Welland Avenue and drove around the business fronting the street to the rear lot where another establishment, a moderately sized, gray industrial building stood. We came to a stop in front of its large garage door between a big, deep red pickup truck hitched to a long travel trailer on Mom's side and a shiny, black Harley Davidson on mine. A sign to the right of the garage door and in front of the bike stated that this was indeed Wheeling Auto Service and a man door to the right of that displayed another sign in its window that read 'closed'.

"I think they're closed," I offered in a small, carefully innocent voice.

She looked at me, her expression hinting that something bad might happen to me if they really were before tersely instructing, "Stay here."

Wisely leaving the engine running, she got out and slammed the door, walking around the front of it in the gathering gloom to the man door. The look of relief on her face was plain as day when she tried the knob and found it unlocked.

She went in, and after a moment I expelled a slightly bored sigh, turning on the radio to catch Adele in the first thirty seconds of Rolling in the Deep. Before she could finish the song, the big door in front of me began rolling up with a heavy, clattering roar to reveal a rather large man dressed in dirty jeans and a Harley Davidson T shirt.

When I say 'large', I don't mean fat, rather the undefined muscular type. He was easily over six feet tall with big hands. He looked to be in his late thirties, maybe early forties, with a face that was neither ugly, nor attractive under an intact hairline of dark brown. If this was Dave, he was nothing like the men that graced the cover of Mom's trash novels, but this isn't to say that he had no appeal.

I didn't realize I was staring until he looked directly at me, holding my eyes while he paused there, the door rolling the rest of the way up of its own volition. With the hint of a smile, he broke eye contact first and started forward, moving for the driver's side of Mom's shiny red piece of shit. For some reason, I wanted to quickly reach over and lock the door, somehow impressed with, but almost frightened of him at the same time. Of course, I didn't. Instead, I cleared my throat and wondered at Mom's choice of mechanic as he reached the side of the car, opened the door and got in beside me.

He filled the driver's portion of the small car, the vehicle shaking quite noticeably as his weight settled and, right away, the manly smell of sweat and unidentified automotive dirt filled its confines. I was still gawking, and when he looked at me, I couldn't help but smile with a curious mix of unguarded admiration and apprehension. For his part, he smiled as well, his brown eyes blatantly checking me out as I sat, so small beside him. He didn't leer like a pervert, but confidently, thoroughly appraised me without fear of my reaction to it. I could tell he liked what he saw and it had the surprising effect of turning me on a little. I had to stifle a nervous giggle as he stuck his hand out to introduce himself.

"I'm Dave," he stated in a strong, but friendly enough voice.

Giving him my hand, which was completely engulfed his strong, firm grip, I replied, "Darin."

"Hey, Darin," he said, checking out my boobs again before adding, "Cool name for a girl."

"Thank you", was all I could say to this.

"So, your mother's car is acting up, eh?" he asked, shutting the door.

"Yeah, it's, (ahem) ... acting up," I stupidly confirmed.

Ignoring my nervous idiocy, he put the car gear in and then began moving us forward, saying, "Well, we'll see what we can do before she decides to burn it."

I'd been so preoccupied with him that I never even looked beyond the opened door to the garage's interior. As the car's front, then rear wheels bumped over the threshold and inside, the engine becoming louder within the surrounding metal walls, I looked around, suddenly and acutely aware of my heart having increased its pace and force to where I could feel it beating in my chest.

Mom took me to her work at the Audi dealership once after school and on our way home. She was getting her schedule and, while I waited, I saw inside their service center. It was big, clean and professional looking with all the mechanics wearing the same smart uniforms, working on brand new, shiny Audis. In the outer waiting area, soft muzac played while salesmen strolled around with their gleaming teeth and pressed shirts and ties, smiling and trying to impress potential customers, Mom and the other receptionist. Big, bright Audi signs graced the walls, boasting of professional service, factory roadside assistance and the Le Mans Victory Sales Event.

This place wasn't like that.

Spanning the entire back wall was a long, wide workbench, covered with tools and greasy black car parts with two big red toolboxes standing at the right end of it. Towards the back of the right wall was a closed door that led to what must have been a small compartment, maybe a bathroom. A set of wooden stairs beside the door led to a chicken wired enclosure above that held tires and some other items, presumably spare car parts. Opposite this, lining the left wall, were several tall, wide, blue metal cabinets that ran more than halfway to the front of the garage. Beside them and to our immediate left, two big floor jacks were stored against the wall with some other unidentifiable equipment. To my right, a large window allowed a view to a moderately sized office/waiting area with a door beside the window to gain entry.

In the right rear corner, a bright, orangey red car was nosed, the wide tired rear end jacked a few feet in the air while, underneath, a guy was on his back, arms raised and working on the bottom of it. Beside it and in the left rear corner, a big van was raised six or seven feet into the air on one of those lift thingies and, as we rolled in, another guy was pushing a Harley ahead and between these two areas to make room for Mom's car.

She was standing a few feet from the door to the office/waiting area with her professional smile and demeanor not quite covering her own apprehension, looking at me with the subtle paranoia that I saw back at the house before glancing at the back of the guy pushing the Harley. That didn't have time to register, what with the state I was in, but also because that's when the car stalled.

"There she goes," Dave commented, putting the car in park after its forward momentum ran out to turn the ignition.

(Rur, rur, rur, rur, rur, rur, rur, rur, rur, rur-)

"Fuck it," he decided, giving up.

"Do you know what's wrong with it?" I asked, still intimidated and impressed, but now composed barely enough to try covering that up.

He smiled at me and replied, "Yeah, it's a Cobalt."

I couldn't help laughing a little at this diagnosis as he put the car in neutral, and then opened the door, letting in the sound of some rock and roll from my mother's era. A moment later, he was out and pushing it ahead by himself with one big paw on the windshield pillar, and without any real strain. When he was finished, he stooped over, reaching back inside to put the transmission in park and turn the ignition switch back, popping the hood afterward while taking an appreciative look at my legs.
"Okay, we got it; may as well hop out."

I've never been the shy type, have never really been uncomfortable in any social surrounding because I know that attractive people have power in that sense. I know I look good and, as I've mentioned, I enjoy it when guys look at me, and often wear some pretty daring outfits once I'm away from Mom so I can show myself off to get that kind of attention, not that any of them would have a chance with me. I just like their reaction because it makes me feel good about myself, Kendra and Tiffany being likeminded in this, but also my friendly competition.

When I got out of the car, however, I casually made sure my shirt was covering my tush, pulling it down from the sides while wiggling my hips up underneath it. It's not that I minded Dave's attention overly much, but without the security of my friends, the familiarity and safety of the crowded mall, and with my mother present, I just wasn't so sure of myself. This was someone else's world, one where I had no control, and the guy who was openly checking me out as he crawled out from under the rear of the red car made that very clear.

Nervously, I stepped towards Mom, the only familiar face and relative safety I could find.

The guy who'd been pushing the bike ahead had turned and was now approaching us. He was very attractive in a slightly unkempt way, with short black hair, a little tousled while his beautiful, chocolate brown eyes beheld us. I suspected that some of his ancestral roots must have been from the Middle East, and it looked very good on him. With his black jeans, untucked, half unbuttoned gray shirt and muscular lean build, he was the very definition of 'tall, dark n handsome' and made the guys on the covers of Mom's trash novels look like idiotic girly men and wannabes by comparison. I was actually proud of Mom for having his attention the way she obviously did, even over me, and it was clear that he had hers as he walked up to us with a confident swagger, wiping his hands on a rag and showing us a warm, winning smile.

"Hi, Vanessa," he greeted, checking out her bust line afterward.

"Hello," she returned with a goofy smile, adding, "This is my daughter, Darin. Darin, this is Gigi."

He stuck out his hand, checked me out and nodded once, saying, "Hey, Darin."

"Hi," I replied, shaking his hand with a smile that probably wasn't much less goofy than hers.

As the guy who'd been working underneath the car approached, Gigi nodded to him, saying, "Vanessa, Darin, this is Dick."

Smiling at Dick this time, I offered my hand to him and he took it, checking me out more blatantly than Gigi did, but looking me in the eyes when he greeted me with, "Nice to meet ya, Darin. You too, Vanessa."

The pleasure's all mine," she replied, taking his hand and shaking it as I had while his eyes roamed over her body.

This was incredible, and the reason she didn't want me along became yet clearer, that being that she didn't want me to know about how she enjoyed being the object of their attention. At age forty-two, I suddenly wondered if she wasn't approaching that time in a woman's life when certain things, such as her sex drive, began to change.

Dick's attention was back on me as Dave began pulling the large door back down via a chain that hung at the doorframe. He was handsome enough with fair hair, blue eyes and a body that was hidden by the dirty pair of dark green coveralls he wore. Again, he looked us in the eyes when he spoke, gesturing to the office as he did.

"Have you two met my wife, Carrie?"

"A few minutes ago when I arrived, yes," Mom answered.

I looked to my right and around her, for the first time seeing two women in the office/waiting area who looked about the same age as the guys, each sitting in one of those adjustable desk chairs. One, an attractive blonde with tattoos from the wrist, all the way up to the shoulder of her left arm, appeared to be watching something, presumably on a computer monitor behind a service counter that faced the outside door. The other, an even more attractive dark skinned brunette, was looking directly at me. Her feet up on the counter, ankles crossed, she slouched beside the blonde and nodded at me with a smile as Dick had, but hers was different. All I could do was smile back with the same nod before looking back to Dick.

"She'd be the tattooed lady," he told me with a smile, adding, "The other one is Dawn, Gigi's sister."

I looked back and Dawn was still looking at me with that same smile, now slowly swivelling her chair back and forth by her hips. I looked away again, feeling a heated flush make its way up my body, suddenly knowing why she was smiling at me like that. It was the same kind of smile the guys were giving us, but a lot more intense.

And that's when I noticed the posters along the walls. My eyes widened as I checked them out, each of them featuring a different woman from about mid-thigh up. I could tell they weren't professional models, but they were all attractive and all covered in some sort of oil or fluid and, at the bottom of these homemade posters, scripted characters identified them with titles such as, 'Miss 10w30', or, 'Miss Dexron I', and so on. Most of them were braless, some in panties and some in sexy shorts, all of them posing with a smile. Seeing my eyes and how they looked around at them, Gigi voiced what I'd noted a few minutes before with a laugh.

"Not exactly like the Audi dealership, huh?"

"Um, not really," I admitted, my eyes inexplicably dropping to his slightly hairy chest for a split second that totally mortified me.

"Mom was just telling me that the dealership is the last place anybody should take their car," I said.

I took this right off the top of my head in order to socially pave over my little indiscretion with his chest, but Mom didn't seem to notice it and, if Gigi did, he didn't seem to mind. Hey, it wasn't as if his eyes weren't all over us, right?

"She's right," Dick affirmed. "Bought a new Chevy truck about five years ago and it was the biggest piece of shit I've ever owned, and the most I've ever paid for any vehicle, at that. Worst of all, they jerked me around with the warranty while the fuckin' thing rotted to pieces. Frame, body and everything. Lost my brakes one night and ended up on somebody's lawn, so I got under the thing the next day and found the front brake line rotted through. Checked the other ones, and they were all rotted to shit, too, same as the steel power steering line. And all of them had little stickers on them that said, 'Made in China'. Yeah. Once the engine started knocking and leaking oil, all I could do was sell the pig for what I could get out of it just so I could wash my hands of it."

Mom clucked her tongue in disgust, shaking her head as Gigi weighed in with a story of his own. The whole time, both of these men were checking us out, and Mom never seemed to mind. In fact, I'm sure she enjoyed it as much as she obviously enjoyed conversing with them. I couldn't believe it, and I listened as she threw her two cents in.

"I think the problem," she opined, "is that they've come to realize they can make as much money from their customers in the parts and service aspect of their operations as they can from actually selling the car, so they intentionally design flaws into them. I mean, just think of how much money they must make from the replacement parts of a particular model- every one ever sold in every country- over and over during that car's lifetime and throughout all of its owners, because even the replacement parts are designed to fail. It's a rip-off and it's downright criminal."

"Where'd that fuckin' dirt bag, Randy, put our order?" Dave asked as Dick and Gigi solemnly nodded their heads at Mom's comments.

"I don't know," Dick answered, "isn't it by the door?"

"Look in the office," Gigi advised, "he probably brought it in there so he could talk to the girls."

"Darin, do me a favour and ask Carrie and Dawn if our parts order is in there?" Dave asked as he walked towards the rear of the shop.

A quick glance through the window found Dawn still looking at me, her smile wider as Carrie was also looking now, smiling as well as she spoke to her very alluring friend. As I've mentioned, I'd never been nervous around people before, therefore I really wasn't equipped to deal with my growing apprehension. So, after a short, almost fearful pause while Mom went on to talk about 'bullshit maintenance procedures', I began a stiff legged walk towards the office door.

Inside, I found myself in a more or less expected area with seating along the wall opposite the window that comprised of different car seats, modified with legs that allowed them to sit properly on the floor. They were all clean, as was the rest of this area, with a pedestal style ashtray available for their possible occupants. Above them, the wall was covered with pictures of powerful looking cars and Harley Davidsons, some that looked like they were on show with trophies in front of them, sometimes a scantily clad woman, and some that looked like they were in the middle of a race. Under the large window sat a low rack with eight or ten car batteries, beside that another rack with an array of wiper blades, and more displays of other various and unidentifiable automotive parts. To my right was the man door that led outside, one of those red and chrome, coin operated peanut dispensing machines beside it. Towards the rear, the service counter jutted from the outside wall, stopping to leave enough room to get by between it and the large window to the rest of the garage. On the wall behind it, more automotive parts occupied shelves that spanned its length. These were larger items, most of them shiny chrome, or polished aluminum.

Standing there, completely out of my element, I mustered what little social courage I was suddenly left with and spoke with a polite smile as I approached the wide, wooden countertop that the two women sat behind.

"Hello, my name is Darin."

"Hey, Darin," the inked lady replied, smiling back while checking me out, her friend actually licking her lips as I came to a stop on what felt like the safe side of the counter. "I'm Carrie and this is Dawn."

Carrie, her dirty blonde hair hanging just past her shoulders with Egyptian style bangs, had blue eyes and her approximately five-five body looked to be in good shape. Somewhat thin, I guessed her breast size to be about a B cup, possibly A. She wore a pair of faded denim cut-offs that looked very good on her, advertising well the gap at the top of her inner thighs that I shared, though my long T shirt was covering that up at the moment. Her upper body was covered with a sleeveless, horizontally black and white striped top with a low neckline and, sitting up on the top of her head, a pair of mirrored, teardrop style sunglasses.

Dawn, although still reclining with her feet up, looked taller than her friend, her hair longer and done in a loose tangle fashion that looked really good. Like her brother's, her eyes were chocolate brown and her hips were a little wider than mine with boobs about the same size, if not a bit bigger. She wore a tight pair of medium blue jeans with a strapless, tucked halter top that was hard to ignore, and a pair of scuffed black cowboy boots with spurs on her feet.

Both women were quite attractive, but especially Dawn.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," I told them while trying not to look for too long at the brunette.

"It could be," she smiled in a low, almost lazy tone that matched her strikingly dark beauty.

I had no idea what to do with that, had never gotten that type of attention from a female before, and found I could only look at her, mouth open a little as I struggled for something to say. Then, as though this weren't enough, my ears caught the moaning and mewling of a woman coming from the computer, the unmistakable sound of porn.

("Oh, yesss... yes, lick me? Make me cum so fuckin hard?")


"Ignore her," Carrie said with a good natured laugh. "She hasn't been fed today. So, what can I do for you?"

I'd almost forgotten why I was even there and had to quickly remind myself as another flush worked its way up my body.

"Um, Dave- Dave wanted me to ask you if the order is in here."

"Oh, yeah," she confirmed, pointing down and behind me, "It's right there by the door- the cardboard box."

"Thank you," I smiled.

"No prob. Hey, I love your shoes."

("Yesss? Yesss? Oh god, I'm gonna cuuummm?")



"Oh, I- thank you," I politely managed as Dawn leered and I felt myself actually aroused a little because of it.

I turned and saw the box right away, sitting on the floor beside a clear plastic bag with what looked like rags inside. Without thinking of how my top would ride up, I bent over to pick it up with my back to them. I straightened and, with the box in both hands, moved for the door with one more polite smile for the two women who were still watching.

"C'mon back after you give it to him," Dawn suggested.

("Oh my fuck, I'm cumming! I'm fucking cumming, oh fuuuck?")



All I could do was nod. I actually felt more confident with the guys, but I couldn't very well be rude and refuse, could I?

Mom was now standing by the car that Dick had been, and had since returned to working on. She was talking to Gigi, that goofy little smile still on her face, while Dave appeared to be looking for something with a light scowl on his features. I walked to the rear of the shop, between the lifted car and the Harley, to give the box to him. He looked at me with it and relief set into his features right away as he took it from my hands.

"Oh, thank fuck. And, wonder of wonders, it's all here. Those idiots are getting worse and worse, and if it weren't for the fact that they're the only ones who sell the paint we like to... Holy shit, Darin..."

He was looking down at me, at my hips and probably between my legs with a very appreciative expression that actually pleased me, but didn't do much for my heated flush. In my discomforted apprehension, I still wasn't thinking about the hem of my top.

"You're a real little hottie, arencha?"

"I- uhh, thank you," I managed, even more discomforted and pleased.

"You must have to beat the fuckin men off you wherever you go."

I couldn't stop the nervous and excited giggle that escaped my throat as I realized that, apprehension or no, I really was enjoying his attention. Behind me, Mom laughed at something, a sincere laugh that I hadn't heard from her since whenever as Dave appeared to force his attention from me and back to his search.

"How tall are you?" I suddenly found myself asking.

"Just under six-four. You?"

"Five-five and three quarters."

"How big are your titties?" he asked, almost flooring me with that as he went on searching through a little plastic box of drawers, one drawer after another for the elusive whatever that he sought.

" ... Wow, uhh... No guy has ever asked me that," I laughed, now totally embarrassed, but still really liking the big guy's attention.

"No?" he asked, glancing at me with a surprised expression before checking them out again, then going back to his search. "I find that hard to believe. They look great."

"I- uh, thanks... I guess."

"So, how big are they?"

I know I should have told him that it was none of his business, that I should have been offended, or whatever, but I just wasn't. Surprised and aghast, yes, but also a little bit hornier.

"C cups", I told him.

"How 'bout your mom?"

"Uh, hers are Ds."

"Yeah, she looks fuckin' good, too."

"Mine are big Cs, though" I amended.

"I believe that. You got a pretty face, too. Where the jesus is that plug gapper? Look, can you do me another favour? Get Carrie to google the plug gap for a two point two, 0-seven Cobalt? They come gapped- or they're supposed to- but it's best to check to be sure, 'cause some of 'em are a bit out. Not that it'll matter if I can't find the gapper tool."

"Okay, I'll be back."

I found myself beginning to like Dave, and not just for the exciting attention he was feeding my ego with, but because he seemed really cool and, well, like a 'real man'. I looked back with a stupid smile and was only a little surprised to see him watching me, watching my ass. He obviously liked what he saw and I turned around quickly, embarrassed further as my smile got even wider of its own volition. Something else I caught was Dick's eyes all over me from underneath the red car. Mom was so distracted by Gigi that she didn't even notice.

As I neared the office, Mom laughing again at something her handsome new friend had said, I looked through the window just in time to see Dawn grabbing Carrie's nipple through her top, pinching with thumb and forefinger while she spoke with a wicked smile. The blonde jumped, slapped her friend's hand away with a laugh and said something that made the brunette beauty roll her eyes.

Now, even though I was beginning to enjoy how I was being treated, I was also beginning to see that something was strangely off with this place and its people, and I wondered why Mom would even be there. These people were way not her scene. At least I didn't think so. Then again, I wasn't the type of girl who'd tell some strange guy my boob size simply for his having asked, at least not normally, so I supposed I wasn't anybody to judge Mom's reasoning at the time. Anyway, I could only imagine that Gigi was enough incentive for her all by himself, and who could blame her?

"-know what you like, you perverted bitch," Carrie was laughing when I walked through the door. "Oh, hey, Darin."

"Hi," I said, both women checking out my midsection as I walked up to the counter and told them what Dave needed.

"Put this on pause before you look," Dawn told her while Carrie, nipples now visibly erect and poking at her shirt, sat up straighter to pause their video and search for the information.

The dark brunette looked me over again, appraising me like I was a fresh piece of meat and, if I had any doubt as to Carrie's appreciation for girls, Dawn left me none.

"How old are you?" she asked as the blonde worked the keyboard.

"Eighteen," I told her, intimidated despite my unexplainable and growing attraction to her.

She nodded as though she approved, then told me, "You've got a really hot little ass."

Again, I was rendered totally speechless, opening my mouth only to close it again. I somehow choked back another stupid, nervous giggle as Carrie responded for me.

"Dawn, leave her alone; you're embarrassing her!"

"I'm just paying the girl a compliment. You don't mind, do you, Darin?"

"Wh- uhh..."

"Do you like girls?"

Incredibly, I only shrugged, my jaw a little further agape, though smiling.

"Ever kiss one?"

I shook my head, almost mesmerized by her beauty and uncomfortable questions.

"Would you like to?"

"Ohh... my god..." was all I could say.

For whatever reason, the suddenly real possibility of kissing a female for the first time in my life, this beautiful woman at that, made my nipples harden and I actually began to debate leaning forward to do just that.

"Dawn, stop it, you're freaking her out!" Carrie admonished with a smile, her eyes snapping to me for an instant before going back to the screen.

"Yeah, but she likes it. Doncha, sugar?"

"Oh, get off her, you vampire!" Carrie told her, looking at me with her friendly smile afterward to add, "Point forty."

I only blinked at her.

"The plug gap," she explained with a good natured laugh, Dawn's sultry chuckle joining as I clued in.

"Oh... right, okay. I should uhh... probably go tell him," I said, my eyes wandering back to Dawn for a moment before I turned to go.
Now I was really freaked. Once back in the larger service area, I didn't dare to look back at the big office window as I walked back to the rear of the shop with the information Dave needed. My heart was hammering fast and hard enough to burst from my chest, like one of those aliens in the movies, and I had a hard time walking at a normal pace.

Looking down at the floor in giddy consternation as I went, I couldn't believe I actually only shrugged in reply to Dawn's question as to whether or not I liked girls, even almost accepted her offer of a kiss, and that's when I finally noticed how the hem of my top had ridden halfway up my hips. Letting out a small, mostly inaudible gasp, I quickly pulled it down, looking up to see if Mom had noticed. She was just then taking a good look at Gigi's chest as his gaze fell on me, his hand holding a cellphone to his ear as he spoke into it.

Back with Dave at the bench, I started to calm a little, finally glancing back at the big window as though there really was a deadly, blood sucking vampire in there. I couldn't see anything but the flickering light from what I assumed to be porn on the monitor in the darkening office.

"Finally found the gapper," he reported as he added a pair of red handled pliers to a handful of other tools.

"Okay," I replied, again noting how I was strangely more comfortable with him. "Um, Carrie said the gap was point forty."

"Okay, thanks. I kinda figured, but it's best to- aww, nuts. You pulled your shirt back down."

"Well, yeah," I said with a smile. "I didn't realize."

"Looked better before."

"Really?"

"You know it does," he said with an informed grin.

I only shrugged, glancing around at Mom who was again lost in Gigi world now that his telephone conversation was apparently over with.

"Pull it up again," he suggested.

After a brief hesitation and another backward glance to my very distracted mother, I smiled wider and slowly pulled it up to where it was... then right up to my waist.

"Like that?" I asked, loving this as I looked up at him.

"Yeah," he said, nodding as he stared.

I loved his reaction, knowing how tight my leggings were.

"How old are you, anyway?"

"Eighteen," I answered.

"Yeah... that's fuckin awesome. Turn around and show me your ass, baby."

I couldn't believe this, but I did as he said, looking over my shoulder so I could enjoy the expression on his very appreciative face.

"Oh my fuuuck. ... I could stare at that for the rest of my life. Yeah, you should come help me with your mother's car."

"Okay," I agreed, totally freaked out at my actions, but also very excited and pleased with myself.

"Grab the order there, will ya? And you walk ahead of me," he added with a laugh.

I grabbed it and started out first, like he wanted, not daring to look in Mom's direction, but looking over my shoulder with a smile for Dave when I reached her car.

"You're quite the little tease, aren't you?" he asked as I put the box on the floor a few feet ahead of the car.

"No," I refuted with the smile I was getting used to showing him. "Why do you say that?"

"I've been around the track a couple of times Darin," he said, checking out my boobs before setting his handful of tools beside the box.

"What do you mean?"

He gave me a funny look and turned to the car, feeling under the front lip of the hood for a second before raising it to expose the engine. A moment later, he was using a screwdriver to remove a big, black plastic thing from the top of the engine, changing the topic as I watched his big hands at work.

"So, you still in school?"

"No, I graduated this past spring."

"Going to university?"

"No."

"Wise young woman," he complimented, much to my pleasure, "Ya know what 'PHD' means?"

"What?"

"Permanent head damage," he misinformed with a smile.

I thought this was pretty funny as he went on to amend his joke with, "Mind you, if you wanna be a lawyer, or a doctor, or a fuckin' rocket scientist, or whatever, university's a pretty good idea but, otherwise, it's just an opportunity to pay a shitload of money to be told what and how to think."

"That's not what my guidance councillor at school said."

"Yeah, well he obviously lined up and paid his money. I did too, for a few years. Then I smartened up and quit, started putting that money to better use. Hand me those pliers there, will ya?"

I bent to grab them and, when I straightened, found him watching with another of his appreciative smiles. Taking the pliers, he checked out my midsection before turning back to his work, asking me a different question.

"Got a job?"

"No."

"Can't find one?"

I shrugged, replying, "I didn't look. I thought I'd enjoy some time for myself for a while."

"How do you get money?"

"Mom."

He nodded at this, removing something attached to some wires from another big, black plastic thing.

"So, what's wrong with it, anyway?" I asked, "besides that it's a Cobalt?"

He grinned and replied, "Sludge buildup in the throttle body. Happens a lot to these cars. Not a big deal, just a pain in the ass. I'm changing the plugs and replacing the fuel filter too cause its good practice, but all it needs is to be cleaned out with some injector cleaner and she'll be good for another little while."

"Mom says it's a shiny red, piece of shit."

He laughed at this, saying, "Yeah, well she's right. As the 'big three's' newer cars go, these aren't too bad, but you won't catch me buying anything built by them after nineteen-ninety-nine."

Beginning to admire his intellect as much as his stature, we went on talking of everyday things for a little while, he checking me out every now and then as he worked, until we were interrupted by a hollow, "bung, bung, bung!" sound. Turning around, I found the source to be Dawn, knocking on the office window. She crooked her finger with that smile, the universal invitation to 'come hither', but when Dave straightened up, she shook her head and pointed at me with that intense, hungry smile.

"Looks like I'm gonna lose my sexy little helper," he observed with an odd expression. "Ah well, at least I get to watch you walk away."

The smile I gave him wasn't so nervous this time, not just because I was feeling more comfortable, but also because I wanted to let him know I was fine with that. To make sure he knew, I added a little wiggle as I left, looking over my shoulder halfway there to see him indeed watching.

During this look, I saw two other things of note. First, Mom was looking at me with what I might call subdued concern on her features, probably over the way my top was adjusted, or maybe that I was flirting with Dave. The other thing was how Dick had rolled to a position on the floor where he could see right up her skirt. He seemed to like what he was seeing, the smile on his face evidence of this, while Gigi was trying to look down her blouse. She had no idea, and she probably mistook my expression for one of alarm over her seeing my behaviour.

I looked away, stunned but suddenly turned on further by this. Back in the office, however, my apprehension soon returned to its former level due to Dawn's smiling attention and my fear of what Carrie would think if she knew her husband was looking up Mom's skirt.

"Wanna smoke a joint with us?" Dawn invited.

Okay, this was something I didn't expect, but the unexpected seemed to be par for the course at Wheeling Auto Service.

" ... Well... I don't think-"

"Don't worry, it's just weed," Carrie said, holding up a thin cigarette with twisted ends as though to prove it to me. "Totally harmless."

"Have you never smoked before?" Dawn inquired.

I only shook my head, smiling politely with my refusal.

"Nothing to worry about," she assured, "It's like drinking a couple beer."

"Yeah, but my Mom..." I worried, looking out the window to see Dick on his feet, talking to her with Gigi.

"Stand back here where she can't see and give it a little try," Dawn said. "It's okay, Darin, we won't let you get caught."

"I really shouldn't."

"It's totally okay, not like crack and that other shit," Carrie coaxed. "We don't do that stuff and we'd never offer it to you."

Despite the angst that came from being in their midst, more so Dawn's, I somehow tended to trust them now, most likely because they were friends of Dave's, and regarded them with an unsure smile that they accurately read.

"It'll help you to relax," Dawn told me.

" ... Well... okay."

Walking ahead, listening to the sound of my Mary-Janes on the gray painted cement floor as a sort of musical accompaniment to this portentous moment, I reached the end of the counter, walking around to its 'unsafe' side.

They got to their feet, smiling at me and, as soon as I was within arm's length, Dawn reached out and put her arm around my waist, gently drawing me closer as though I may change my mind while Carrie lit the joint with a chrome Zippo. My senses jumped at her touch, goose pimples rising all over my body as her nails found their way under my shirt and softly caressed the bare skin of my side for a second. I gasped, the small sound just above my breath, but I knew she heard it as she looked at me with barely concealed lust.

As Carrie drew deeply on the joint, another soft gasp came from the computer. I looked at the monitor in time to see a busty, middle aged brunette woman pulling down the powder blue, cotton shorts of a pretty blonde girl of about my age. Meanwhile, a middle aged guy had her pink tank top pulled up over her fairly small, braless boobs, pinching one of her erect nipples while sucking on the other.

"Pretty hot, eh?" Dawn commented.

Of course, I'd checked out pornography on my computer, but I mostly relied on my own imagination for stuff like that, the kinkiest stuff from my mind only coming about when I masturbated. However, beyond the further embarrassment it caused me just then, it only served to spike my hormones, especially with Dawn's physical contact and other less than subtle behaviours towards me. I didn't even answer as she took the joint from Carrie and put it to her lips.

"You like porn, Darin?" Carrie asked.

"Well... not really. I- I mean, it's not that I don't like it, it's just that it usually doesn't..."

"I really like this one," she informed.

The girl's shorts were gone and her top was being pulled up and over her head. The man's penis was out, and it was big enough to make me suddenly wonder at how big Dave's was. I blushed as though they could read my mind, but then Dawn was passing me the joint.

I took it and, after the briefest hesitation, put it to my lips and drew on it a little. I choked and coughed almost right away.

"Take some air in around your lips when you puff on it," Dawn instructed, her hand rubbing up and down my side in exhilarating encouragement that brought my goose pimples back.

I tried this, coughed again, but not as much as I handed the joint to Carrie with a nervous/polite smile.

By then, the girl was left in her little pink panties, the man spilling a large set of boobs from the older woman's bra that made the girl's eyes goggle before her face was more or less gently guided to their deep cleavage.

"I like this one too," Dawn said, looking at the monitor with me, "In fact, I'd even say it's one of my faves."

I soon found myself wondering what it would be like to be the object of that kind of attention and, without my noticing, the fact that I was standing there, actually watching this threesome with these two was slowly becoming manageable as it turned me on more and more. It was probably because of the particular situation being portrayed and that I wasn't being judged for my growing enjoyment of it.

Before I knew it, the joint came back around to me and, remembering Carrie's instruction, I coughed a little less that time before passing it on to her.

"There, you're getting it," she said with her inclusive smile as the blonde girl was being pulled down to a bed with a small moan, her panties being pulled off to leave her completely naked.

"So, Is your mother gonna take the job?" Dawn asked.

I only blinked at her, wondering what she meant.

"Oops," she replied to this, looking at Carrie with a little discomfort in her eyes.

"Uhh... job?" I asked.

"Yeaaah...," Carrie began to carefully explain. "Uh, I take it she didn't tell you?"

I shook my head, looking from one to the other, wondering what this was all about and what was going on.

"Oh, crap," Dawn expressed with an apologetic expression.

"What job?" I asked, actually feeling a bit more relaxed, as Dawn had promised, and somehow odd at the same time.

"Darin, I'm really sorry," she sincerely expressed while squeezing my side a little, but I naturally figured that, since she brought you along tonight, she'd have told you..."

"Told me what?"

"Well... I've obviously said too much already, and it's none of my business to be telling you-"

"Too late for that now," Carrie determined while handing her the joint. "Christ almighty, Dawn, if you'd let a cock in your mouth every once in a while, maybe you wouldn't always be getting your foot caught in it."

"Shut up, Carrie," Dawn softly shot back, obviously upset that she'd let some cat out of its bag.

"Dave told us earlier on," Carrie began to explain, "that your Mom showed up here last week to have her car fixed, and that's when she found out he's been looking for a receptionist. She told him she'd have to think about it, so he gave her a week."

"Yeah, but she already has a job," I refuted. "She works at the Audi dealership."

"Well, he told us that she said she'd been laid off almost two months ago," she explained apologetically as Dawn passed the joint to me. "Something about them contracting some call center in New Brunswick to schedule their service appointments, or whatever."

"Oh my god..." I said, more to myself, but while looking at Carrie. "But, why didn't she tell me?"

"Probably didn't want to worry you," she offered.

"Please don't say anything?" Dawn asked. I already feel awful enough, and I'd hate to... you know..."

"Yeah," Carrie agreed as I whooshed the joint like they did. "Plus, Dave would be pissed off at us if she refused the job because of this. He's really hoping she'll take it 'cause she has experience and actually knows stuff about cars. Also, she's got obvious class and she... well, she's smokin' hot, and that, along with her knowledge, class and experience, is something that would make the shop look good."

"But... why wouldn't she just take the job, then?" I asked. "Why would she have to take a week to think about it?"

"Weeell..." Dawn hinted with a careful smile as I passed the joint, "As you may have noticed, this isn't exactly the Audi dealership..."

I only nodded, remembering her brother's comment and my own observations regarding that when I'd first arrived and had seen the posters.

And many things became clear just then. Like the pieces of a puzzle coming together, I suddenly understood why my mother had been acting so odd lately, why she'd been so uptight and bitchy with me about growing up and stuff. I understood why she'd changed her makeup and dressed the way she had tonight, why she was so nervous when she got here, why she was associating with these people, and why she didn't want me along for this 'appointment'.

"Holy shit," was all I could say in a dazed tone as Carrie passed the joint to Dawn, now burned down to a nub and clutched in the end of a little metal clip.

"So, you won't say anything?" Dawn asked hopefully.

"No," I vaguely replied, then looked at her to repeat more absolutely, "No, I won't say anything. Jeez, I can't believe she didn't tell me, though. She didn't even cut off my allowance."

"Wow," Carrie remarked, "That's pretty cool of her; she must really love you. When I was your age, the only thing my mother ever gave me was a kick up the ass to help me out of her house. By the way, if she does take the job, she'll get twenty bucks an hour and no labour charges on her car repairs."

"Plus, she'll get the parts at Dave's cost." Dawn put in while passing to me, "and, best of all, you'll both be allowed to come to the park."

"The park?" I asked before taking a drag as Dawn's smile returned to what it had been, her eyes all over my boobs.

"A private getaway up north," Carrie explained while I puffed again. "You'd love it."

"I have a trailer there," Dawn informed. "You could stay with me."

Her lascivious smile made me unsure of how to respond to that beyond another lame one of my own as I passed what was left of the joint to Carrie. On the monitor, the brunette woman was licking the girl's pussy while the man was feeding her his cock. She was making a sort of funny, yet very erotic sound as I stared, my hormones reactivated even as I tried to process all this new information about Mom and the possibilities for her here.

I realized I was stoned, a lot more relaxed now, and that my mother had to become Dave's receptionist. I also just then realized that Carrie was cutting at the lower part of my top with a pair of scissors.

"He-ey," I laughed, "What are you doing?"

"Adjusting your look," she explained with a malicious little grin.

"Of course," Dawn almost sleazed, "your mom will have to get used to a certain type of treatment in order to work here, at least where Dave's preferred customers are concerned."

"Like what?" I asked, though I already had a good idea of what she meant as I remembered Dick looking up her skirt.

Snipping away, Carrie replied, "Let's just say that tonight is her interview."

"I got a funny feeling she'll do just fine, though," Dawn assured, finishing the joint and tossing the clip to the countertop. "As for you... how 'bout that kiss now?"

She gave my side another gentle squeeze, her nails bringing out those goose pimples once again, and I only hesitated for about two full seconds, though it felt like an eternity, before I moved in with all my nerves popping. Our boobs touched, then pressed lightly together as our lips met for a short, soft kiss that almost blew my senses through the top of my head.

When it was over, I could only stare with a giddy, stunned grin as she grinned back. It was so different than with a guy, the soft, sensuous feel of it something I never would have expected, the unique passion so unappreciable by the imagination. On the monitor, the blonde girl was really moaning now, but I didn't look, could only look at the beautiful woman in front of me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if I'd ever bother with flaunting myself at the mall again.

"Oh, wow," I giggled in a low voice, suddenly feeling so naughty and perverted. I loved it.

"Want some more?" she dared.

I nodded and her hand left my waist to find a place on the side of my neck, fingers curling around the back of it as she gently pulled me in so we could smooch again for a little longer. This time, when we finished, she breathed something in my ear that lit my poor hormones on fire.

"You sexy little bitch... I wanna lick your cunt till you scream for meee..."

"Ohh-h, Dawn..." I mewled just above a whisper.

From that moment on, she had me. Maybe I was just stoned, but it really didn't matter. The experience was what it was for me simply because of the way I received it, and I received it very positively.

"My turn," Carrie said.

And then I was kissing her. After a nice smooch, she nibbled and licked at my lower lip, holding me around the waist while I rested one hand on her hip, the other on her shoulder. I heard some more snipping and felt my top being tugged at while Carrie's hard nipples pressed against my boobs. I was so turned on, I would have let them do almost anything, and when her tongue asked entry to my mouth, I only moaned and allowed it in.
"Lemme have some now," Dawn breathed.

And then I was kissing the lovely brunette again, hosting her tongue as I had Carrie's. Hers seemed to fill my mouth, and I realized that my pussy was getting wet with excitement as the guy on the monitor groaned and cursed.

Now the sewn neckline of my top was being cut away as I made out with Dawn, both of us breathing heavily, once looking each other in the eye for a moment of pure, erotic understanding of one another. My nipples felt as hard as I knew Carrie's were and I was very quickly losing myself in these forbidden moments of impossible desire.

But then it was Carrie's turn again and, with giggling, horny desire, I separated from Dawn to be passed back to the slender, tattooed blonde. In so doing, my eyes happened to sweep across the large window and that's how I saw my mother, now standing by her car with Gigi, but watching us with her sagging jaw almost as wide as her stunned eyes.

"Ohhh, shhhhit!" I hissed in a high, shaky tone as I could only stare back at her, trying to collect my wits.

"Uh oh..." Carrie expressed, obviously seeing the source of my sudden alarm.

Dawn then turned to see as well, just as Gigi distracted Mom's attention by taking up a thick lock of her long, rich auburn hair from near the side of her face. His fingers explored their prize and he looked at her with a very approving expression as he spoke something we couldn't hear. Dave, meanwhile, was busily working away under the hood while Dick, I'd assumed, was still under the red car.

"Oh..." Dawn worried when she turned back to me, asking, "You think she'll be mad?"

I only shook my head, not really meaning anything by it. Mom shot a partial glance in our direction before the smile that was slowly replacing her disturbance over my conduct overtook her pretty features. Dave looked up then and, glancing at her chest, said something that made her jaw sag again, but only a little and with a smile to go with it.

As the guy on the monitor groaned louder and cursed more passionately, Carrie said, "Hm. Crisis averted, I guess."

Dawn smirked at the comment, but looked at me to see how I was taking it while Carrie started on the short sleeves of my top.

Looking down at myself, I found that Carrie had cut away enough of my pink T shirt to show my midriff, but had also cut up the sides, two long A shapes from under my arms, in order to allow hanging panels in the front and back. Also, without the sewn seem of the V neck, the collar was a lot more open, enough so that one of the thin, pink straps of my bra were visible along with more than a little cleavage. As Carrie finished with the ends of my sleeves, leaving me with little more than a super sexy rag, Dawn loosened and lowered my belt so that it hung on my hips and at an angle.

"What do you think, sugar?" she asked while drinking me in.

I loved it. My giggle said as much, but Carrie wasn't quite done.

"I think we need to get rid of this hanging part in back." She judged, getting right to work on that.

"Yeah," Dawn agreed. Make it so that the back of her bra shows."

"On it."

The blonde girl started to squeal, and I looked in time to see her cum by the older woman's tongue. The man was repositioning himself for the next dirty act he had in mind, but Dawn got my attention back on her when she pulled the front of my top down far enough to see my pink lace bra with i