Car Wash 12

This little yarn is my entry for the

Summer Lovin' Story Contest 2023

festival of hot weather... hotness. Be sure to read all the other entries that interest you! Fair warning, this story takes a little while to get to the point, but then there is a whole lot of point after that...

As always, please don't expect my stories to reveal deep truths or to seem like real life. I aim simply for the plausibly ridiculous. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

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Car Wash

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It was the middle of Sunday morning, and I was lying on my back under my car, with my best worst clothes on. I drive on dirt roads a fair amount to get to various measurement stations, so it is always even more filthy under there than most cars usually are. But the oil still needed to be changed, so under it I was.

I know how to do quite a lot of things for myself, and have always enjoyed doing them on my own, rather than paying for someone else to do the job, when time allows. When I was in high school, saving the cash from tuning my bike chain or constructing an instrument harness had meant that I had more money left for fancier dates, which occasionally ended very well.

Once I got to college, I went to more parties and on fewer dates, and starting to save my money, rather than spend it. Some nights still ended very well...

I had just settled myself underneath the engine, on a thin pad to protect my back, and was calmly clearing mud away to free the oil filter, when I heard my new neighbors come out into their carport next to mine.

Actually, it was me who was the new neighbor, having just moved into my new house the month before. I had met this couple the week after I arrived, and had talked to them all of three times by that point, never for more than ten minutes, if that.

Ron and Gina were a damned good-looking couple. I estimated that they were in their very early forties, give or take a few years. Gina was what looked to be a natural blonde, with equally natural curls that made for a very youthful and attractive hair style. She also sported some very well-maintained curves, which she always seemed to dress in clothes that clearly accentuated them, but were never actually revealing.

Yes, I looked. I always look at beautiful women. It is a policy of mine.

Ron was taller than me, and moved with the easy physicality of a large, financially successful forty year-old male, blessed with damned near no body fat, so far as I could tell.

To the extent that I thought of Ron and Gina at all, it was usually to be irritated with that last fact about Ron. At thirty, my natural metabolism had already reached that point where regular, meticulous work at the gym had morphed from past-time to necessity. I mean, I could have given up booze instead, and kept the weight off, but let's not be crazy here. Besides, as I said, I am not shy about physical labor of any kind. Ripping on the rowing machine was a small price to pay for a flat abdomen.

Our carports are separated by a low, boxwood hedge, interrupted by one or two maple trees, all running along the property line. It doesn't provide any privacy at all, but is simply an attractive marker of the border between our little suburban domains. I idly turned my head and saw that from flat on my back, I could see under the hedge.

A large suitcase sat on the ground beside their ankles within my view. He wore black leather shoes and what appeared to be a dark business suit. Gina had low sandals, and her ankles and calves were bare. It was summer in the South-most of us usually wore shorts when we weren't at work.

I saw his ankles turn towards her, and he stepped forward. From how they were suddenly positioned, I didn't need the sound of kissing to tell that they were embracing... closely.

No, they were pretty much fully making out, from the sounds they were making, and the position and movements of their ankles.

I should have let them know I was nearby when they first came out. Now, if I cleared my throat, or said hello, I'd embarrass them. I just held still. He must be headed out on another trip. I was pretty sure that they both traveled a lot.

Son of a bitch! The was the unmistakeable sound of a zipper being pulled down! I could hear it clearly in the still quiet of the unusually lawnmower-less morning.

Right in their carport? I mean, it was pretty far back from the road, but...

Ron groaned happily, then the groan segued into one of frustration. "Come on, babe! No," he insisted unhappily. "I mean, oh God, I can't. I

can't

risk missing this flight to Detroit." I saw his feet step reluctantly backward to put space between them. Not much, but space.

"Aww," Gina said in a cute voice. "I'd have made sure you finished fast..." she trailed off. "But yeah," she said her own tone shifting. "More to the point, you really can't miss the Tokyo connection."

"Exactly."

I heard another, quick kiss. "Now I really regret sleeping in this morning," she grumbled.

"Yeah, I am most definitely regretting letting you," Ron said ruefully. "But you looked so beautiful, sleeping there peacefully."

"Thank you, but you know how much I like a good, dick-shaped wakeup," she teased.

"I'll be back in two weeks," he reassured her, "and I'll put you to sleep and wake you up repeatedly with this thing when I'm back."

Wow. Two weeks away was a long time to get blue-balled at the moment of departure!

"I look forward to it," Gina cooed. These two were randy as hell! And I had the impression they'd been married for a good long time, too. I smiled. Good for the lovebirds.

She kissed him again. "Have fun, and don't fuck anyone I wouldn't fuck," she said breezily.

I almost hit my head on the underside of the drive shaft.

"No worries, darling," he snorted. "I'm just glad that you have great taste in women!" Another kiss, a little longer again. "You have fun, too," he said easily.

"I'll try," Gina said with an audible shrug in her voice. "Probably have to wait to see if anything comes up next week when I'm in Boston. A few of my playmates around here are getting... I'm done with Bob completely, for instance. I got the impression he was starting to think relationship rather than recreation."

"Can't have that," Ron said with happy possessiveness. "But Boston has ample men, I understand."

"True. We'll see. You know I'm pickier than you, though."

"Ha! The evidence does not always bear that out, babe!" Ron snorted. I heard another kiss. "Regardless, be careful," he added with soft sincerity. "I love you."

"I love you too. And you know I always am," she replied happily. "Now, that you've already missed out on your blowjob, don't miss the plane anyway!"

They shared a laugh as he tossed his suitcase in the trunk of his Audi. They had identical models, except that his was white and hers was red. In moments, the car was rolling backwards down the driveway, and Gina's, suddenly much sexier in my eyes, ankles were re-entering the house.

Wow.

Yes. Of course the idea of popping up right there at the end and declaring that if Gina was in the market for some recreational cock, I had it fresh and in stock, conveniently available any time she liked, had entered my mind rather forcefully. But I really could not have revealed my presence that way. And I really wondered whether I, as the next-door neighbor, was really the kind of... whatever the fuck these two accumulated as toys, that she was looking for.

But wondering about it became a bit of a thing for a while. I spent more time openly out in my yard, hoping to see her and engage in conversation. Turns out, she was not a yard person. They had a service, which made sense since they both traveled.

I did not have a service, because, as I said, I like to work with my hands--that and, while it was family money that had provided my down-payment, I still had to pay my mortgage out of my less than princely salary. So I mowed, weeded, trimmed, and changed my own oil.

I had bought the smallest house, in the worst condition, in the neighborhood I wanted. Property 101, right? It was just a single-story ranch, nestled like only a few others among the majority two-story homes of the neighborhood. Inside, it was in pretty decent condition, and had been more or less move-in ready. The worst issues had been outside in the yard.

When my parents had come to town to help me move in, my pop had had some pointed words about the grass, especially. He is something of a suburban commando and lawn ranger, and barely a week had gone by so far that I wasn't getting texts from him with articles or advice on fixing my lawn. Seeing all those dandelions and dollarweed had wounded his soul, I think.

I was waiting for the fall to work on the grass, beyond mowing down the weeds a couple of times a week. But the beds and shrubs were a mess, too, and they could be usefully addressed in the heat of summer. I spent a lot of my free time weeding, and I put in some flashy annuals to give some conspicuous color. I wanted to signal to my neighbors with mindsets like Pop's that the new guy wasn't going to be one of Those People, as the prior owner had obviously been.

All this meant, as my first summer as a homeowner progressed, that I spent a lot of my weekends outside, in and out of the sun. Since I have zero reason to be ashamed of appearing in public without a shirt, I began to lay in the best tan of my life.

Though it was summer, I still had research to do at the lab, and with the field apparatuses around the area. Some of my work was still assisting Doctor Patterson's research, but increasingly, my investigations were my own. The great thing was, I had no classes to teach at the moment. I had time to work around the house a lot, especially since I tended to work four long days a week, taking a random weekday off to buy things for the house and run various errands. Also, just because the inside was livable, didn't mean it was anything like how I wanted it to be eventually, when time and cash left over from mortgage and insurance allowed. Any free hour that resented itself usually was spent with a screwdriver or prybar in hand, if I wasn't outside in the heat.

I didn't have a lot of free time, but I managed to go on a couple of dates, none of which ended particularly well.

At the start of the first week of August, I noticed that both Audis next door were gone. I hoped that Ron and Gina were each having fun wherever their respective business had taken them.

Thursday, I got home late to observe a very nice, if a few years old, Land Rover in the driveway at the entrance to their carport, and lights on inside their house. I briefly considered doing the suburban thing and calling the cops to check if there was a problem, but decided that I wasn't Mrs. Hastings from back home quite yet. Besides, that was a helluva nice ride for squatters or thieves.

Friday, I took the day off. It was going to be a scorcher, but I already badly needed to mow again. The grass had stopped growing in the heat, but the weeds that infested it, goddammit, were still getting taller every day. Thus, the need to mow twice a week or the lawn would look like hell. The shit you do not realize until you buy a house for yourself...

And there was other stuff to do as well. I mowed early, before the heat got too bad. My tan had gotten good enough that I barely needed SPF 8 any more for a day in the sun, though I had to reapply it often, due to the sweat. The heat not being too bad was a relative term.

After a quick lunch inside to cool off, I ditched my shirt once more and went out to my carport with my tool bucket, to grab the trellis I had bought and was going to affix to the high wooden wall along my back property line. That wall blocked access from and the view of the deluxe apartment complex back there, but was an eyesore itself, as far as I was concerned. I had observed that most of my neighbors along the bend where my house was located had covered much of their own stretches of the wall in various ways already.

I had ideas about growing flowering vines. Clematis maybe, but I wasn't sure if they'd thrive in the heat down here.

I stopped when I went out the side door. The Land Rover had moved out of the carport and into the dappled shade of the driveway. Standing beside it were its owners. Or its owner and a friend.

Um... wow.

The two of them were probably eighteen, maybe nineteen. They were blonde. They were gorgeous. They were wearing bikinis.

They were really nice bikinis, too. Nothing crazy, really, but hardly modest either.

I stopped, almost stunned by the unlooked for scenery outside my side door. They both turned at the sound of my screen door springing shut, saw me, and smiled.

The slightly taller, slightly less stacked one of them stepped over to the hedge line, followed quickly by her opposite number.

"Hi there, neighbor!" she chirped. "I think Mom said you were... Owen?" I nodded, still trying to get my mouth to stop watering so I could reply without drooling. "I'm Reggie, and this is my sis, Willa. We are back home with Mom and Dad for a break until college starts up again in..." she looked at Willa, "What do we have? Ten days left?"

"Well, we are

supposed

to be staying with them, but they both went out of town until Tuesday before we even got here," Willa said with an irritated smirk. It was nice to see that these two girls actually seemed to have

wanted

their parents around. Willa reached out over the hedge to offer her hand. As I took it, I observed that Willa, leaning forward in that bikini, was a helluva sight. And I also observed that she had not actually needed to reach so far, or lean so much, to shake my hand over the hedge. She just had chosen to do so... Those big, round tits dangled enticingly, mostly contained in the pale gray triangles of her white-trimmed string bikini. Her blonde hair was the same, short length as Gina's, but lacked the natural curls.

But the handshake was brisk, and as she straightened back up, Reggie stepped forward right against the hedge and extended her hand, making it further apparent that no bending had been necessary to reach me across the hedge. Instead, Reggie stood straight up, incidentally thrusting her more modest but still amazingly full handfuls outward. Her top was also a string number, but in a bright blue pattern. The bottom was a complimentary solid color that was super high cut on the sides, the waistband curving upward to accommodate the leg holes, and presenting a Y silhouette from the front. It particularly showcased her abs that were so toned you could almost see a six pack, though she wasn't terribly muscular otherwise, just super fit. Her nearly identically blonde hair had Geri's curls, but she wore it well down onto her shoulders in a totally different styling.

Both girls were damned fit, to be honest, Willa just carried a tiny bit more flesh here and there. More than a tiny bit in some locations...

I am not usually given to being tongue-tied around beautiful women, and I finally recovered my voice. I had just been caught by surprise. Double surprise.

"Glad to meet you," I said with my best flippant grin. "I am indeed Owen. Your classes start only ten days from now?" I asked with only mild interest, just to extend the chance meeting. "That's a pretty early start," I went on sympathetically. "Where do you guys go to school?" I knew it wasn't my university, alas.

"It is disgustingly early," Willa grumped. "But yeah. Only ten days left. We are both sophomores at Northwestern. Gotta bank some final time in the sun and heat down here while we can. Our internships are both finally done for the summer."

"Must be nice. I remember those days," I said, unconsciously making myself sound old. I suddenly perceived that that was not what I wanted at the moment. My work instincts at the university, where Gravitas Is All, were betraying me. "Not that they were more than a couple years ago," I added.

"Not long ago at all," Reggie said, pointing at my wardrobe of a pair of old board shorts. "You are going for a swim on a Friday? Do you have a pool back there?" she asked in a speculative tone that made me wish that the answer was yes.

"No, I'm just doing yard work today," I said, jerking a thumb out back. "Digging a hole for a pool is beyond my own abilities. Gonna have to wait until I can pay someone to put one in. Are you guys headed for the beach?" I countered, indicating the car out in the driveway, rather than pointing out the awesome bikinis explicitly.

"Nope," Willa laughed. "Tomorrow maybe. Today, my baby girl needs a wash," she said, pointing at the Land Rover. "And she needs a fresh wax job too," she added, drawing a wicked snort from Reggie.

My day brightened further. Innuendo and/or dirty jokes were the sorts of things from pretty girls that tended to do that. Seizing the day, I said, "Sounds like a good day for washing the car. Want some help?"

They both looked at me, but I shrugged, and before they could reply, I pointed at the hose in my carport on the big reel. "My hose can reach over here easily, and two will make quicker work than one."

I swear to God, Willa looked like she wanted to make a joke about how long my hose was, but sadly, she refrained.

Then Reggie did it for her. "My! That

is

an impressive hose, Owen," she said, in an exaggerated tone. "So yeah, thanks for the help, if you can spare the time from your chores."

Great, now I was desperately hoping that my boast about the length of the hose was true. It would be humiliating otherwise. "Ehh. This afternoon is optional projects," I said dismissively. "A car wash with cool water and someone to talk to sounds like an ideal alternative to pounding nails in the glaring sun."

Before they could find some way to demur, I turned and went to the hose. I attached the new firefighter-styled nozzle I'd just bought to replace the piece of shit the previous owners had left, turned on the water, and started unreeling the hose over toward their car.

It reached easily, I was relived to see. Suddenly I was much more well-disposed toward my house's prior owner, and their desire to have a hose that reached the whole property.

I looked them over again as I approached. Reggie was filling their bucket with water and Willa was pouring too much STP Car Shampoo in with it. This was going to be a suds fest.

"Hey," I said, realizing something that had been niggling at the back of my mind. "You are both sophomores? You're obviously not identical, so you guys must be fraternal twins?"

They both stood and affected a pose. This was obviously a routine for them. "Don't we look it?" Reggie challenged.

I took the opportunity to really give them an open appraisal. You don't pass up on opportunities like that. Again, policy.

"No, actually," I said honestly, still giving them the once, now twice, over. "I've known some fraternal twins, and while there is a resemblance between you two, but it is usually closer," I replied curiously.

"The resemblance is coincidental, and mostly hair color," Reggie said with the air of telling an old joke fondly. "We are not twins. Mom is my mother, and Dad is Willa's father. But we are both nineteen."

"We are hardly the same age," Willa said loftily. "I am fully four months older than you."

"Which you..."

"Never let you forget," Willa interrupted Reggie fondly. "Now shut up and let's wash my car, youngun'." With that, she grabbed the nozzle of their hose from Reggie and turned to spray the Land Rover. She squeezed the handle too soon, which resulted in a spray across Reggie's legs as she swung the hose.

"Hey!" Reggie protested.

"Sorry! But this ain't a dry process, sis," Willa said as she began to soak the car.