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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1255986-A-Little-Luck
Rated: GC · Short Story · LGBTQ+ · #1255986
A broken down car, a rain storm, and a single house on the side of the road
"Dammit," I exclaimed, slamming my hands down on the steering wheel as the car sputtered noisily, then slowed to a complete stop, "Now what the hell am I going to do?"
I peered down at the gas gauge that, predictably, was buried down past the "E." I'd spent my last five dollars on something to eat about an hour back. I hadn't seen a bank in forever, and none of the stores in this "Mom and Pop" town took credit cards or even personal checks.

I'd left my girlfriend when I'd caught her in bed with her art professor. I was stuck in a car with no air conditioning, in the heat, the sun was about to go down, and I was going to have to start walking in a place that reminded me more than a little of, "Deliverance Country." Additionally, because things weren't bad enough, it began to pour down rain. I, of course, did what any good, red-blooded femme would do. I put my head down on the steering wheel and cried like a baby.

When I'd finished, I figured it was time to start hoofing it, so I grabbed my purse and my big duffel bag with my clothes in it. I'd gone about eight miles when I saw a house. One solitary house on the side of the road, set about a mile back.

"Great," I said aloud to no one at all, "Probably an axe murderer. Possibly a crazed rapist. At the very least it's someone who will be extremely pissed off at being woken at 2 o' clock in the morning by a perfect stranger knocking on their front door.

I knocked at the door, then backed up a few feet to look at the front of the house. It looked like their were lights on and I was pretty sure I could hear footsteps inside coming to the door. It swung open and there stood every femme's biggest wet dream. About six feet of gorgeous, long-legged, lean, muscular butch in faded relaxed-fit blue jeans and a tight white wife-beater. She was ruggedly tan like she worked outside and her face seemed kind.

I recovered quickly and tried to give her my most charming smile,

"Hi. My name is Amy. You don't know me and I'm so sorry to bother you at this hour, but, I ran out of gas back there and I've walked nine miles counting your driveway and your house is the first house I've seen. I was wondering if you could just maybe tell me where I could get a gas can, fill it, and get back to my car?"

She gave me the most compassionate smile, I started crying all over again. She started a little, and put her hand out,

"Here, why don't you give me that bag and come on inside out of the rain. Goodness, look at you. You're soaked right through."

Desperate, more than afraid, I handed her my duffel bag and took the hand she extended for me. It was was soft and dry. She disappeared down the hallway and I heard the opening and closing of a dryer door. She came back into the living room with a huge, warm, fluffy towel.

"Do you want me to put all your clothes in to the wash? I'd guess that everything in the duffel bag is soaked too. You can grab a hot shower to warm you up, then I'll fix you something to eat."

I felt like such an idiot. I couldn't quit crying. I was sniffling and probably had mascara running black streaks down my face. Finally, I got enough composure to sputter out,

"If you wash my stuff, I won't have anything to put on."

She just smiled,

"Come on, let's go find you a t-shirt. Anything of mine is going to swallow you whole, so I know that a pair of shorts or sweats won't work, but, my shirts should come to your knees."

I followed her to her room like an obedient child and waited while she rummaged through a drawer and finally came out with a black t-shirt emblazoned with the name of some rock band across the front. She handed it to me with a smile and said,

"I'm D.J., by the way. I'm glad that you knocked on my door. There's nothing open at this hour and even if there was, it's at least ten miles away. You're more than welcome to get some sleep here, then I'll drive you when we wake up."

I sighed, smiling for real for the first time,

"Thank you so much, D.J.. You don't know what I've been through, but, it's been beyond rough. Yours is the first kind face I've seen since I left Tennessee."

She handed me a fresh towel and washcloth and took my wet one,

"Maybe you can tell me your story over something to eat."

I dropped my clothes and stood in the shower for the longest time, just letting the hot water hit me, it felt so damned good.

Finally, I stepped out of the shower, dried off, slipped her shirt over my head, and wrapped the towel around my long, wet, auburn curls and padded into the hallway to drop my dirty clothes into the washer.

"Umm, D.J. ... where's your soap and fabric softener?"

I heard a dish being set down on a hard surface,

"Don't worry about that. I'll come start it up in a little bit. Come sit down and eat. You just trekked over eight miles in the rain. You've got to be sore and exhausted."

I walked into the most delicious smells. Roasted garlic, melting butter, warm olive oil, hot bread and cooked pasta. The smells drew me into the kitchen and she smiled as she turned to look at me and there was something unmistakable in her eyes, even though she was trying to hide it. It's a look that a butch gets when she sees a femme ... and wants her. I looked up at her through my lashes and grinned,

"Smells delicious, but, you didn't have to go to all this trouble for me. I'd have been happy with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

She handed me a cold glass of iced tea,

"Not for guests. Come on, I've already made you a plate."

I sat with her in the living room and ate the best pasta in garlic oil I had ever tasted in my life. While we ate, I poured out my story, telling her everything. When I'd finished, I took the towel off my head, shaking my curls loose. I heard her make a noise in her throat as she looked at me,

"She was very, very stupid."

I blushed, smiling,

"So, D.J., tell me about yourself."

"Well, I'm fron New York, originally and I'm leaving here next week to move back. I'm thirty-four and I've lived here for about seven years, but, my parents are getting older and they need someone close by. Besides, I miss living near them."

I nodded,

"I'm from New York too. I'm heading back there myself."

D.J. laughed,

"What part?"

I pulled my keys over amd showed her my NYC keychain and she pointed to a hoodie hanging on the back of a chair with NYC across the front.

"So," she began, taking my empty plate, "How old are you, Amy?"

"I'm twenty-three."

"Wow, you're young," she laughed, "No offense."

"None taken," I shrugged, pulled a bottle of lotion our of my bag and began slathering it on my legs. She walked in the room and just stood there, watching me for a little while,

"Well," she began, breathlessly, "I put some bedding on the bed in the guest room. We'll worry about your clothes when we wake up. Sleep as long as you like. I'm not working since I'm moving. Good night, Amy."

"Good night, D.J." I put my hand on her upper arm, "Thank you again. For everything. I don't know where I'd be if you hadn't opened the door."

She smiled shyly, ushering me into the bedroom,

"Well, sleep tight."

She closed the door behind herself and I heard her moving around in the kitchen, putting things away, putting the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. I heard the bathroom door, then the toilet flush, the faucet turn on. Her bedroom was right next door to the room I was in and I could hear the rustle of clothes as she undressed, the creak of her bed as she lay down.

I lay there awake, everything in me burning for her to touch me. It was crazy and I knew it. I told myself it was. Nonetheless, the body doesn't lie. I slid my hand under the t-shirt I was wearing and between my legs. My cunt was on fire and brimming over with juice. I pulled the neck of the shirt up to my nose and inhaled. It smelled clean, but I could also smell the faintest scent of cologne. My fingertips brushed my clit and I moaned softly, rubbing more firmly. Any other time, I could have gotten myself off in a matter of seconds, being this turned on, but I couldn't quite get myself over the edge, I stopped in frustration. I wanted her so badly.. Badly enough to do something desperate. Badly enough to do something stupid and potentially very embarrassing. I got out of the bed and walked to her door. It was open a crack so I pushed it open and called her name. I heard her stir,

"Amy, Is something wrong? Do you need something?"

I padded over to the bed,

"Yes, I do need something ... desperately."

I climbed onto the bed and lay flat on top of her and felt her breathing change.

"Amy, you don't have to do this. I don't expect anything."

I put my fingers against her lips,

"Sshh ... I want you. I want you very bad. I don't know what it is. I'm burning up with how bad I want you."

She took my wrist in her hand and pulled my fingers to her nose,

"God, you smell so good. I want you too. It's been a long time, honey."

I smiled and kissed her. It was everything I thought it would be. her tongue touched my lips, and I opened them eagerly. She explored my mouth, making me wonder what it would be like to have that tongue explore something else.

"Come under the covers with me," she whispered, "I want to feel you against me."

I climbed off the bed and she flung the convers back, but stopped me just before I could climb black in. She crawled over to me and pulled the t-shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor,

"My, you're beautiful. So very beautiful."

I climbed back on the bed and she pulled me against her. She smelled so good and something about her felt so safe that I just lay my head on her shoulder, burying my face in her neck. She rubbed my back, holding me tightly and kissing my face. My hands slid up the outsides of her thighs, her hips and around to the front of her boxer - briefs. I heard her sharp intake of breath as I discovered that she was packing. She was holding her breath, waiting for my reaction. I purred long and low in her ear, grasping her cock, and pushing it into her. She almost lost her balance, but, I'm a strong enough femme to hold up my butch when she needs it.

She lay me down beneath her. Her mouth began at my neck and moved over every inch of my body. She took extra time at my nipples, licking, sucking, nibbling, biting ... then her lips found my belly, tongue dipping into my navel like a prelude of things to come. There wasn't any part of me that she didn't seem to take delight in. Finally, she made her way to the soft skin between my thighs. She played her nose over my mound, nipped at me with her teeth, stroked gently with her fingers. Quite suddenly, I felt her hot tongue at my clit. I moaned and arched under her. She sucked, licked, then pushed her tongue into my opening and I almost came undone,

"More," I panted, gasping, "More! Please, fuck me."

She placed the head of her cock against my opening. Geez, it felt enormous. She pushed gently, softly, until I felt the whole thing slide in. I was filled so full. I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so good ... so alive. She lay full on top of me and began to pump me with long slow strokes. I was lifting my hips to meet her as I felt her get faster. I was flushed, hot ... so close. Her hand slipped between us and I felt her fingertips on my clit, circling and stroking me to the most powerful orgasm I had ever experienced. I screamed her name over and over. There were tears rolling down my cheeks. I couldn't catch my breath, and I knew I had clawed her back all to hell. Gonna have to apologize for that one, I thought.

When I had recovered a little, I felt her reposition herself a little and give a few tentative strokes to see if it was ok. I moaned, my eyes rolling back and ground my hips against her.

"I'm so close, Amy."

I stroked her back, the side of her face, "Me too, baby ... again."

She rode me in short, hard thrusts that I knew caused the base of her dick to shine her clit. After about a minute, she froze, then, her hips jerked. She buried her face in my shoulder. Her jerking hips set me off again, and I came a second time, clutching her.

She rolled off of me and pulled me in tight. We slept until that afternoon, when she drove me to get my car ... and then, we drove it back to her place. How could I leave? It just goes to show that a little luck in the face of disaster can bring your destiny to slap you right in the face.
© Copyright 2007 Benderjenn (benderjenn at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1255986-A-Little-Luck