It was a laserwash, one of those no touch deals. Gone were the days of giant slinging brushes buffing your car with blue suds that smelled oddly of bubble gum. He remembered fucking in those car washes, when Shel had been young and limber and perpetually horny. God, he’d loved that. So predictable too, almost a fetish with her. It got to the point where he’d get a hard on just driving by one.

Shel was gone. Cancer. Fuck cancer. Cancer in her breasts, metastasized to her liver and then her lungs. Those gorgeous breasts. Bouncing in his face while the car rocked inside and out. Her voice, her violet eyes boring into his while she told him to fuck her, the mascara streaking her cheeks.

The car was filthy. And he asked this young woman with him did she mind if they went through the wash on their way to dinner. He’d tried to get it done before he picked her up. Time management wasn’t his strong suit. Shel had always helped him with that, sending him reminders, hand-writing him notes, packing his lunch every morning at 5:30. Now he was always late. Always sad, always late.

This one, her name was Lydia. She wasn’t classically beautiful, but she had a smile that melted his sadness. And woke his cock. Was it her smile? She had an open, curious kind of face. He felt like he could ask her anything and she’d probably answer. Anything? She had short blonde hair that flew around her face and big green eyes. And a figure. He wanted to bite her. Everywhere. From her plump ass to her tiny waist to her smiling lips.

Yeah, those lips, too.

“No, I don’t mind at all.” She smiled sweetly and tucked her hands between her thighs. It was almost demure. Maybe it was his dirty old mind that made it something else. She was wearing dark slacks and a loudly colored blouse with a plunging neckline. She looked casual but put-together. And she smelled like sugar and flowers.

The wash bay was glass. They were alone, though. He looked for conversation starters through the sheet of weak suds flowing over the windshield.

He heard her turn slightly toward him. “I love car washes,” she said softly.

He looked at her and smiled. “Yes? What do you like about them?”

She laughed. It was a gentle sound. Her lashes brushed her flushing cheeks. “I’ve always imagined that people… you know…”

His heart thumped. His cock stirred. He teased her. “No, what? What do you think people do in car washes, Lydia?”

It was something in the intimate atmosphere. Like the closed car and waterfall around them made it a place set apart from the real world.

“I’ve always imagined that if I were with the right someone, we could get up to all kinds of trouble in a car wash.” She looked at him boldly, and he stiffened. Just like that. His hand moved there, without his telling it to. And she noticed.

He caught her eyes again before leaning across and catching her mouth. She kissed with an abandon, a lustful hunger that ignited his skin. He took her hand while he explored her mouth and placed it on his raging cock.

It was all the invitation she needed. She was a minx, this one. Wild and sweet and everything about her generous and luxurious.

Lydia was the first step. Lydia and her magic mouth, Lydia and laser washes.

Shel would approve.

5 thoughts on “Lydia

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