About 4PM on a very hot summer afternoon I left my job as bank teller and headed for my car in the parking lot. I work in a bank, which is situated as a free standing building in the middle of a large parking lot in front of an immense shopping plaza in my town.
As I stepped out into the torrid sun and heat, I could see ripples rising into the air from the yellow lined hard top as July shimmered its summer intensity. This was a scorcher, probably the hottest day of the year.
I unlocked my car and opened the driver's door. A whoosh of hot air was released from the interior of the sun baked red Triumph, adding to the sum total of the heat index. I lit a cigarette, giving the classic rod a minute to cool down before entering. All I could think of was getting home and getting out of this business attire and into my bikini and hitting the pool. A chilled cosmopolitan in a frozen martini glass would follow.
I flicked aside the half smoked filtered butt and jumped in the car, started the engine and put the top down. The old Triumph didn't come with air conditioning, but with an open cockpit and the wind blowing, it was a pleasure to drive.
As I shifted into low and let out the clutch, I knew something was wrong. I could feel a wobble in the front, indicating trouble. I got out to look. I had unwittingly parked on a big patch of broken glass, and my reward for my inattention was a very flat tire.
Now, I wasn't about to try to solve this problem in the heat and dressed in skirt and blouse. I was already sweating to the point where I was beginning reveal more than is proper. My nipples were showing through my perspiration soaked bra and blouse as if I were participating in a wet T-shirt contest (which is another story for another day!).
Right across the parking lot from the bank, and close by my parking spot is an automotive shop – one of those national chain stores that specializes in tires. I double checked my purse to ensure that I had my credit cards with me, took a deep breath of summer air, and walked on over.
"Hi, Amy," acknowledged Walt. Walt is a regular customer at the bank, coming in every morning to make his business deposit from the prior day. "Hot enough for ya, kid?"
The kid thing is a private joke between us. Walt is often taken to be younger than his thirty years. He often had customers ask to speak to his boss, assuming that he was a young apprentice, and not the store manager that he was. I, too, look younger than I really am. I am twenty-eight, a little younger than Walt, but often am considered to be much younger. Bartenders always ask to see some ID, and are usually skeptical about the authenticity of the driver's license I produce.
Walt keeps an immaculate store - at least in the customer service area. The counters are spotless. All around are displays of various types and sizes of tires. I guess it is still primarily a guy kind of shop, but, as a woman, I was not uncomfortable. That creepy feeling is absent. It's not as if we were in a corner garage with those pin-up girl calendars or some other bastion of the American male.
The smell of new, fresh rubber permeates the sales floor. The smell sent me on a mental trip back to my last trip to the mall. I am always amazed how a certain smell can evoke specific memories in my brain. I recalled with detail passing by a leather store. The aroma of leather emanated from the store into the pedestrian walkway. I couldn't resist going into that store to browse and enjoy the scents. And I couldn't leave without buying. I bought a leather halter-top that was a catalyst for all sorts of fantasies; but, to be honest, I still haven't broken it in. "Maybe soon", I said, half aloud.
"Walt," I said, speaking up. "I just went out to my car, and it has a flat! Do you think you can help me out?"
"Amy, no way I can let you down. But you know I don't generally take in new work this late in the day. The guys are all busy in the bays right up till closing at seven. Tell you what, rather than having to wait around here, why don't you take my car? Come on back at closing time, and I'll have your tire all fixed up," Walt suggested.
As much as I was enjoying the smells in the shop, I couldn't see myself waiting around until seven. Borrowing Walt's car would give a couple of hours to relax and cool off.
"As long as you don't mind my driving your Z, Walt, I'll take you up on it. I'll leave you my keys and my credit card. You can do the Triumph at your convenience. I'll see you around seven". I took him up on his generous offer, taking his keys with playful little wink.
I turned and headed for his Z. I didn't look back, but I could feel Walt's gaze follow my ass across the parking lot. I gave it a little extra bump just for his benefit. I entered Walt's Z showing as much leg as could.
On the way home, I turned up Walt's air conditioner to maximum power and adjusted the vents to blow the cool air directly on me. The Z even has one of those vents below the steering column, so it blew cool, invigorating air right up my skirt.
I turned the sound system on and blocked out the rest of the world. I was alone in the car with the bouquet of fresh rubber still wafting in my nostrils.
I began to think about the power of aroma. I judged my reactions in the mall store. The smell of fresh leather. Now the smell of rubber. I began to consider the possibilities of combining the two. The idea proved to be very erotic and arousing. Absent mindedly, I gently caressed my clit through my panties as the cool air blew on my hand and thighs.
More than once, I had gone off to work bare assed under my skirt. Often, I flirted with the idea of flashing some unsuspecting client. I never had the nerve to actually do it, of course. Aside from reality ruining fantasy, my job would probably be in jeopardy should the wrong suit discover my behavior. Today would have been a good day to have left the panties at home, though. Timing is everything!
I pulled into my parking lot, my usual parking space waiting for me. Judging by the dampness developing between my thighs, I either made it home just in time, or a little early, or a bit late, depending upon perspective. I shut down the Z's muscle purr and felt a drop in my own power level. I could sense my tachometer drop down and rest on the peg. Opening the car's door and feeling the heat flush my face sent me quickly to my apartment building – second floor rear.
Two hands to get in – one for the key and one for the knob. I crossed the threshold and kicked the door shut with a single motion. I stepped out of my four-inch heels and immediately began to strip, ambling down the hallway. By the time I got to the bathroom, I was completely naked, a trail of the day's hot business clothes behind me. I jumped into the shower, letting the water cascade over my excessively heated body.
Gradually, I became increasingly aware of a little fantasy that was playing out in my head. It was a bit of imagination that the smell of rubber had impetuously implanted. The rubber in Walt's shop progressed from having a smell, to an aroma, to a fragrance, and had reached the status of aphrodisiatic incense. The water running down between my breasts and dripping off my trimmed blonde bush added to the reverie of lust.
