Cindy-Part Three (Image: Dancing Girl # 7)

The Saturday morning after my dance lesson Cindy brought the car to the garage. I was finishing up an oil change when I saw her in the waiting area chatting with Susan—waiting to get my attention so she could give me the keys. She had a few minutes before her parents came by to pick her up. I was feeling a bit cocky since I could sort of dance now so I pointed to the coke machine in the waiting area and asked her if she wanted to “share” a coke. Back in those days, “sharing a coke” with a girl—drinking from the same bottle—was tantamount to kissing.

Cindy said, “Sure,” like it was no big deal but I could see she was surprised and pleased at this turn of events.

The screen door closed behind us with a lazy slam as we left the building—me holding the cold coke in a sweaty hand. There was an old car seat out back of the garage under a big Oak we used for our break area. I was feeling a little nervous but as we were walking the three or four yards from the back door to the car seat it flashed into my mind, “Go for it.” Just as we reached the car seat but before sitting down, I abruptly set the bottle on a crate, put my arms around Cindy and kissed her—my first kiss and I learned later—hers too.

She was so shocked and surprised—at first she didn’t respond—didn’t return the kiss for a second—then caught herself, grabbed the back of my head and tried to inhale me. I was astonished at her passion. Before I realized what was happening “Snow White” had her tongue half way down my throat, was running her hands all over my chest and shoulders and digging her nails into my back.

When she finally came up for air she said, “Oh my God, I’d almost given up on you—I thought you’d never make a move on me.”

She laughed and blathered on for 5 or 10 minutes about all the plans she had for us—especially the upcoming camping trip. She had been to the camp before and knew of a beautiful place on the lake shore where there was this huge Willow  tree hanging out over the water. This was where we could find some privacy she said as she straightened my shirt collar.

As she was talking I could see over her shoulder, Susan watching us through the screen door. Susan turned quickly away but just as she did I caught sight of an expression on her face that seemed familiar and made me uneasy. It took a few minutes to think of where I’d seen that look before and I laughed—an uncomfortable sort of laugh—when I remembered. It reminded me of Snow White’s beautiful but evil step mother.

A few minutes later Cindy’s parents—who always liked me—came out the back door looking for their daughter. Cindy scampered off with them—they had some sort of trip to Utica  planned.

I went inside the garage and finished out the day. Eddie—the boss—said I could use one of the bays and the shop tools to tune up and check out Cindy’s car after the garage closed—I just had to pay for any parts.

I put the “closed” sign on the door, pulled her car in and went to work. It needed a safety inspection, an oil change and a complete tune up. The battery looked pretty tired—I replaced it with a good one from a wreck Eddie had towed in a few weeks ago. In topping off the fluids I noticed the brake fluid was especially low. I was on my knees on the floor about to slide a piece of newspaper underneath to see if there was a leak when I became aware of someone else in the shop.

I turned around and stood up—not three feet behind me Susan was standing there staring at me. She was wearing a pair of tight shorts, high heels, a man’s white dress shirt unbuttoned to the forth button and no bra. That same expression from a few hours earlier flickered across her face then turned into sad, lost and vulnerable—like a little girl that can’t find her puppy.

She looked directly into my eyes and said my name in a way in a way that made the hair on the back of my neck stand up—it sounded like she was ordering something off of a menu.

“I like Cindy’s car,” she said, putting her hands behind her back, looking at me through her lashes and slightly turning her shoulders to one side then the other so I could see into her shirt—glancing at the car then back at me.

I didn’t say anything—I didn’t have to. Susan was going to take care of everything.

She stepped over to me and unzipped the dirty mechanic’s coveralls I was wearing.

“The back seat looks comfy,” she announced. “You’ve been working hard. You should take a break with me,” and she nodded toward the car. “You took a break with Cindy earlier—take one with me. You look like you’re man enough…”

My heart was hammering, I was light-headed and more aroused than I had ever been in my life. All I could think of was, “I can’t believe this—Susan Bowie is going to…with me…”

About three hours earlier I had a first experience—my first kiss. That evening in Eddie’s garage I had another first experience. Susan and I had sex in the back seat of Cindy’s car.

End part three

FacebookTwitterDeliciousGoogle GmailGoogle ReaderDiggShare

Leave a Reply

CommentLuv badge