Chapter 2
After breakfast, cooked and served by a young deputy, the sheriff let me out of the cell, shoved some papers at me to sign, and said I was a free man again. We went out back where my car had been impounded. The impoundment lot was next door to a construction company and my fine chariot was covered with dust. Instead of robin's egg blue, it was now the same color as the dump trucks and tractors sitting beside it.
"Sorry about that," the sheriff said. He handed me a credit slip, good for a tank of gas at Ernie's Service Station.
"And if I were you," he added, "I'd get your buggy tuned up. You've been on the road a long time and it'll last you a lot longer if you take care of it."
I thought I smelled a little graft and said, "Your brother have a garage down the street?"
He laughed. "No, but I got a nephew who has a garage across the street from Ernie's. He's a good mechanic, but you don't have to go there if you don't want. Drive the damn thing into the ground for all I care. I ain't no nepotist."
I said, "I don't suppose I get a credit slip for a tuneup, huh?"
"Be glad you got the gas, bub."
I shook hands with him. After I had started the car, he became a sheriff again. "Once you got your business done, bub, just get along out of town. Don't let me catch you hanging around here or I'll slap the other three days suspended on you."
I waved and grinned.
It was about ten in the morning and the birds were still singing. It was a nice town and the summer was going to be very good. If I hadn't had to get out of town, and also if I hadn't had to check in with the forest service next week, I might have stayed around awhile. And heading down the street I had to agree with my jailor that the car needed a tune-up. I found Ernie's Service Station, and across the street was the nephew's garage. I pulled in to get the gas, then figured to pull over to the shop.
Near the gas pumps was a big sign that read: CAR WASH HELP THE FLOWERING OF OUR CITY
Now that was nice, I thought.
While Ernie was pumping gas in the tank, I asked him where I lined up for the car wash.
He studied the sheriff's credit slip for authenticity, then peered squint-eyed at my eastern license plate. "You come a long way for a free tank of gas and a car wash."
"Can I get it washed, or is this a quiz program?"
"Why, sure thing, young fellow." I couldn't decide if Ernie was truly colorful or simply acting that way for my benefit "You just pull your rig over yonder under that there oak tree and I'll let the girls know they got a customer."
"The girls?" I asked.
He chuckled. "You'll be glad you came all the way out here."
I followed his instructions and parked in the shade of the oak.
There was a spigot with a hose attached, a pile of wiping rags, a few chamois skins, buckets and a newly opened box of soap powder. It didn't look like they had had too much luck getting income for the flowering of their city. The pavement was dry and I doubted if they had had any business all morning. It was probably sad trying to get customers at a car wash in a little town like this: probably most people washed their own cars, hoses strung out across the front lawn, the kids helping to wash the hubcaps.
Then I saw them.
Three at first. Meredith, Kathy and June, as I found out later.
They wore shorts and were naked from the thigh down. Their bare feet trod softly, steadily across the pavement to where I waited with my car in the shade, my mouth slowly falling open. The one in the lead, Meredith, had long, golden hair that swayed like the tail of a golden filly as she walked. Long legs, tanned. Three pictures of perfect health. I imagined even their teeth were perfect
Watching them walk across the lot toward me made me realize how much I enjoyed girls, wanted them, and even needed them. I just liked girls. And it made me realize how long I was going to be up in that forest service lookout alone. I began to wonder if I could make it up there all that time, without screwing anything. All I would have up there would be memories, and while the sheriff's wife had given me a nice one, along with a few others I had, there simply were not enough to tide me over a whole summer.
"Hi," the one with the bouncing, long golden hair said. Her voice was bouncy too. She wore what probably was her father's white shirt, the sleeves rolled up, the tails flopping over her shorts. She was tall and all tan, her face, her long legs. The shirt was unbuttoned down to where her breasts started to rise and from there down everything seemed exciting.
"Is this the right place for the car wash?" I asked stupidly.
The third girl's eyes caught mine. They were dark green, like some kind of young, strong animal. She turned on the spigot and started squirting water over my car. The dust started to pour off it and the color began to come back, but then a fourth girl caught my brain.
This was Astra. She came from the service station bay wearing long straight brown hair falling over her small shoulders. She carried a guitar. I thought, of course they would have a guitar. Why not?
"How much is this going to cost me?" I asked.
Kathy seemed to be the cashier. "Two dollars," she said. She was the only one of the four with a suggestion that someday she might be heavy. Her legs were thick and her ass filled her shorts a little too full, but her tits were just as full so I doubted if anyone would mind a little heaviness down below as long as her whole body was in proportion. She had tanned legs like the others, but she had a white stripe around each thigh as if her folks tried to keep her in longer pants but today had failed
Astra joined us. I liked the way her hair fell over her breasts, nice little ones, very firm and strong, pointing up and the silklike scarf she wore over them only made them look touchable. Astra sat down and began strumming in the shade. "Hi," she said, and began to provide entertainment while her friends did the work.
Meredith poured soap in the bucket and June, the girl with the hose, filled it. They giggled when suds drifted into their noses. Kathy brought some rags and the three started washing the roof of my car. They had to stand on tiptoe and stretch their bodies.
I looked innocently at Astra. She smiled at me with a soft, friendly expression and invited me to sit beside her while she strummed her guitar. I made sure I could still see the other girls, then sat down and lit a cigarette. Astra puckered her lips so I put my cigarette between them and lit another for myself.
I kept watching Meredith, June, and Kathy stretch to wash my car, bend over to rinse out the rags and dip them in the suds again. I kept watching for a flash of cunt hair as their legs spread, but even though their shorts circled their thighs right at the crotch the girls were so damn neat that not even a whisper of cunt hair escaped. I began imagining them naked, their firm asses bending over my car, their tits wavering as they scrubbed. I got so lost in my fantasy that I didn't even see the other two come from the station bay.
What caught my eye first was the bleached hair on one of them. Her hair, and the tight Levi's that she had cut off evenly just below her crotch and then had ripped along the seam to give her hips more room to move. The shorts gave me the impression that they were simply two loose flaps hanging over her cunt and her ass. She looked about eighteen or nineteen and was the least virginal of all six girls. She was Bonnie and Bonnie looked like a fucker. What was better than her ripped up Levis was that she wore nothing above it except a man's undershirt, the old-fashioned kind with thin strips over the shoulders, and her nipples showed very clearly through the thin material. I could see her nipples while she was still ten feet away. She had fantastic, ripe nipples on breasts that hardly moved at all as she walked. Jiggled a little. Just enough. Vibrated might be a better way to put it
She grinned at me. "Hi, this is Anne," she said, introducing her friend, "and I'm Bonnie."
Anne was the innocent sort of girl good fuckers like Bonnie often made friends with to drag around with them for contrast. But there was nothing wrong with Anne, either, standing there trying to select a washing rag with which to work, looking in her shorts and T-shirt and sneakers like a high school girl's gym instructor. Right away I liked the way her nose turned up. She had strong, short legs and possibly the most perfect ass of all six girls. Her tits were perfect too. She started scrubbing my car, her right arm pumping up and down, leaning over and stretching up. Her face was small, almost like a little girl's, but her body was in perfect proportion and her shoulders supported her perfect little tits very well as she move in calm, sure motions. I imagined her lying on her back, her knees open with her shorts caught around one ankle.
My eyes went from one girl to another, from Anne with her little girl looks to Meredith, the obvious leader of the group, to slightly heavy Kathy the cashier, to June, who seemed the youngest at about seventeen, but had those dark green eyes and wore those tight white shorts. My eyes kept moving and strayed to Bonnie, the only one with bleached hair and the only one that seemed slightly out of place. The others all seemed like normal, healthy smalltown California girls: incredibly perfect in ever detail, six-month checkups every year of their lives, tight vaginas and firm bellies and freshly-budded breasts that hungered for a man's lips.
Bonnie, the obvious fucker, looked fast, as if she would rather fuck than eat, but the others just looked healthy. Though I had never eaten a girl, they all looked like eating material.
Astra began humming "Shenandoah," my favorite, plucking very softly on the guitar, and she looked like the gentlest of all six. Her soft eyes and mouth, her slim, lithe-like body that hardly seemed to be there at all, the good breasts under the thin, silken scarf draped over her front, all drew my eyes steadily downward to where she sat cross-legged on a blanket. I could almost see, or probably sense, a glimpse of pubic hair at her tanned, spread thighs. I had an almost irresistible urge to kiss her cunt. For some reason, unknown to me before, I wanted to taste my tongue far up inside her.
And within days I would be far up on a mountain top, alone in my lookout, searching east, west, north and south ice forest fires. All by myself.
While these six girls played all summer, splashed in and out of the rolling Pacific, went to drive-in movies with boyfriends, lost cherries and learned to fuck, I would have to slam my erections against the iron legs of the lookout tower to make them go away.
Kathy slid inside my car to wipe the dashboard. She might have been heavy around the hips but her ankles were as fine as any of the others. I revised my estimate of her and decided her heaviness might be nothing more than a residue of her baby fat and that as soon as she got into sex and learned the right exercises her heaviness would disappear.
All too soon it was over and Kathy was holding out her hand for my two dollars.
Meredith rounded up the other girls and got them to rinse out the rags and wring them dry. They laughed and danced as the cold water splashed onto their tanned legs. Watching their legs made me think of a small herd of very finely-built wild deer and I wanted to spread my arms to wrap them all to me and take them into the lookout tower with me to help me through the long, hot summer.
We talked a little about my being from the East. They were all impressed with that. Only Bonnie had been as far away as San Francisco. The others were all completely homegrown and would probably be homebred as well by some local yokel who wouldn't even appreciate what incredibly good luck he was having as he broke through the virgin hymens. I told the girls how much I liked northern California and they all became instant ambassadors, encouraged me to stick around awhile and get used to the climate.
"You'll never leave, once you get used to it," Meredith said.
Looking at her long, golden hair shining in the sun I agreed with her.
I glanced back once at the girls and they were all laughing, sitting in the shade of the oak tree, waiting for their next customer.
The garage mechanic was Sheriff Anderson's nephew all right, but he was not, as I had suspected, a crook. And he didn't take the sheriff's directive that I get out of town very seriously.
"I can't promise you your car until Monday. This is Friday, you know. Uncle Andy didn't call me to let me know you were coming over and I just got too much business right now. Couldn't he have kept you in jail the other three days? Then you wouldn't have had to hang around town over the weekend."
"Look," I protested. "He promised he he would lock me up again if I didn't get out of here. I could take the car like it is ..."
He interrupted. "Might blow up in fifty miles. To hell with Uncle Andy. Just lay low-go to the movies or something. If he finds you and gives you trouble have him call me; I'll straighten it out for you. But you can't take your car and I can't promise it for you till Monday. If I feel like working on it Sunday it might be ready Monday morning; otherwise it's going to be Monday afternoon before you can have it back."
I thought of the girls across the street. I didn't have to be at the lookout until next Wednesday. Leaving on Monday would give me plenty of time. The only foul-up would be if Sheriff Anderson felt insulted that I was still in town. Or if he got wind of the fact that I had screwed his wife. Then I'd be back in jail, I'd miss my job, have driven all the way to California for nothing, and in general be screwed up.
But I decided to try it.
It would have been too obvious to have waved at them as I drove away, and too difficult. I kept thinking of that lonely lookout tower and how crazy I must be. How could I leave such things without getting into even one of them? And I remembered the good Sheriff Anderson and the three days suspended hanging over my head. If he caught me hanging around that car wash he would slap me back in jail so fast even his wife wouldn't have seen him even slam the door on me. And she probably wouldn't have a key this time, either, because I'd be in the basement back room of the court house with dusty records from 1901 piled on top of my well-kicked ass.
Ernie hobbled to the gas pumps as I prepared to drive across the street. "Didn't I tell you?" he wheezed. "Didn't I tell you?"
"Best car wash I ever had, old timer," I said.
I was still thinking about the girls as I pulled into the street, and I nearly drove in front of a black Buick the bore down on me at thirty miles an hour carrying two old people with an umbrella between them on the seat. The woman passenger picked up the umbrella and waved it at me like I had attempted to molest her, and her husband shouted vulgarisms that even I don't like to repeat.
My car stalled right there in the middle of the street and I backed traffic up for half a block before I got going again. I was nervous before I got it out of there, but unlike people in the East nobody honked a horn at me. They just waited patiently as if it were an everyday occurrence that somebody stopped a robin's egg blue car, freshly washed, cross-ways in the middle of the street
The nephew mechanic loaned me the keys to a ratty old pickup truck he kept out behind the garage. I rattled around through the parking lot in it and pulled up to the street to wait for the light to change. He told me about a cheap boarding house where I could hole up for the weekend. I planned to drive there, buy a few books and lay low, practice being alone for when I was up in the lookout tower.
But, waiting for the light to change, I looked over at the car wash at Ernie's Service Station and I saw the six girls again.
Meredith was standing up. Anne, Kathy, June and Bonnie were all sitting around Astra listening to her strum her guitar.
I imagined having them all on the mountain top with me.
Then I imagined something a little more practical. Why couldn't I get one of them to shack up with over the weekend? Then I imagined something better than that Why not screw every one of them over the weekend?
Why not try it, anyway?
Finally somebody in a car behind me got impatient and honked the horn. I woke up and pulled out into the street and drove toward the older section of town where the mechanic told me I could find a room cheap.
Why not screw them all over the weekend, I knew that small town girls would fuck a stranger sooner than they would boys they had grown up with, and I certainly was a stranger. And what better revenge on Sheriff Anderson than to get six of the finest girls Longport could offer.
My mind began to go wild, like a computer short-circuiting. What combinations, I wondered. Two at a time? Three? Morning, noon, and night? Which one should I start with? Bonnie, the obvious one? Or Meredith, the leader? I remembered my western movies and knew that if you got the chief you could always win the battle, but I wondered if it was possible to get a chief like Meredith. I wanted to fuck her, not stand off a mile away and hit her with a long-range bullet
It would obviously take some planning. I had three nights, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, and two days, Saturday and Sunday. And some of those nights or days they might have dates, or family suppers, or any damn thing to keep them occupied.
But I figured I could work it out.
If I got all six in one weekend, I thought I might be able to stand it without anything all summer at the lookout I might be able to take it up there if I had some fresh memories to take out and look at whenever I needed it
And I got the crazy idea that since I had never tasted a girl, I wanted to see what one from California did when I got my tongue up against her clit I wanted to taste every one of those girls at the car wash. My cock got hard just thinking about it My cock was ready before I had even made a plan.