Kelsey rolled out of bed and looked out her window at the pouring rain, the first gloomy day since she'd moved home. It seemed fitting, since her Jeep was broken. It had run poorly for a few hours the day before, and then wouldn't start. When it happened she called her father at work, he called the dealer that sold it to him and a tow truck was sent for it. The tow truck driver seemed happy to drive Kelsey home. It might have had something to do with the tiny bikini she was wearing. "No extra charge. I'd be happy to," he said, looking her over. She couldn't tell which eye he was looking at her with because they pointed in different directions. He was missing a few teeth, and the ones he had were tobacco stained. He was reasonably harmless.
Kelsey rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, pulled a terrycloth robe on over her bare skin and went downstairs for a cup of coffee. Kay was at the kitchen table reading the morning paper. She hadn't bothered with a robe.
"Aren't you cold?" Kelsey asked.
"Not really, Honey," Kay said.
Kelsey poured a cup of hot coffee and sat down with her mother.
"That was so fun last night," Kay said. "Your dad was quiet about it this morning, but I know he loved it. I haven't seen that look on his face in years."
"Really?" Kelsey asked quietly, her mouth curling into a little smile.
"He always looks happy when he cums, but yeah, that was definitely big for him I think."
Kelsey took her first sip from the steaming mug and thought back on how the evening had gone...
Brie had offered to pick her up if she wanted to go out, but Kelsey decided to stay home with her parents for a quiet night watching another French movie on DVD. Kay picked most of the movies, and they were almost always sexy in one way or another. The one they'd watched was particularly steamy — a man meets two sisters who are twenty years younger than him, and they go on a week-long road trip leaving his wife behind.
After the movie Kelsey confessed that she'd been writing stories for a few years. They'd started coming to her when she watched Tucker coming up with little storylines for the porn scenes they were shooting at the studio. In Kelsey's down time from work and school she'd jot down her own ideas, which quickly turned into a relaxing hobby of writing short stories. Filthy, dirty, sexy short stories. She didn't do it often, but when one came to her she couldn't rest until she'd gotten it down on paper.
Kay and Bobby were intrigued by Kelsey's new hobby, and asked her to tell them a bedtime story. She brought her notebook to their room and climbed onto the bed with them. It was cool and drizzly outside, so Kay pulled a sheet over their naked bodies. Bobby was in the middle and put his arms around his two girls. Kelsey began to read.
It was a story about a college girl on a bicycle, riding along the towpath of the old Erie Canal. The tire on her bike went flat, and she noticed a house through the woods. A man was splitting firewood in his backyard, wearing shorts and work boots. He had gray hair on his chest, and his muscles glistened from the work. The girl startled him when she walked out of the woods carrying her bike. He fixed her tire, they drank Utica Club beer from cans, they kissed, their clothes came off, etc. etc.
When Kelsey finished the story Bobby's cock was fully hard. Kay's hand had been under the sheet stroking it ever since the story had heated up. Kelsey was thrilled of course, that her little story had elicited that kind of response from her first audience.
After Bobby and Kay praised Kelsey for her storytelling abilities, a sexy silence fell over the room. The only sounds were the spatter of rain on the windows and the soft rustle of Kay's hand under the sheet, still slowly working on Bobby. Kelsey was suddenly overcome with warmth, like she'd had a transfusion of blood that was ten degrees warmer than her own. Her hand went to the top of the sheet. She felt her mother's fingers moving underneath, and then the heat and hardness of her father's cock. Kay's finger's retreated, just a few inches, to massage Bobby's balls, leaving Kelsey's warm hand on her father's hard shaft, with the thin cotton sheet between them.
Kelsey knew what his hard cock looked like. She'd seen it many times. The first few times were from the third floor window when she was younger, looking down on her parents orgies by the pool, and more recently at the parties she'd been invited to. But she'd never touched it. Putting the feel together with the visual was magical.
Her fingers encircled the hard warmth, stroking it slowly and gently. Bobby groaned as he came. Kelsey watched as the cum made wet spots on the sheet. There was more than she thought there'd be, and the stickiness oozed through the fabric onto her slowly stroking hand. Bobby's eyes were closed and his face looked beautiful.
When he started to soften Kelsey left him to her mother's still playful hand. She kissed them both on the forehead, picked up her notebook and said goodnight to them. Bobby and Kay both looked blissful when Kelsey left them to go to her room.
"Was he sexy when you first met him?" Kelsey asked after another sip of her morning coffee.
"Your father? Oh, yes," Kay said. "I mean not like now, but yes, he was. Nineteen-year-olds have a different way about them though. I always thought older men were sexier."
"Yeah, me too," Kelsey said, thinking about the professor she had an affair with at school, Brie's father Brian, and Tucker and Dave at the studio.
Kelsey's phone rang and vibrated on the table. Her Jeep was fixed. No charge, the man said.
"Oh good, Honey!" Kay said. "Your father said the man who runs the place is really nice. I'll get dressed and bring you over. He's just on the other side of town."
—
Koop's Crawlers
was the name on the sign. It hung above the door of a building that used to be a gas station, probably built back in the thirties. An antique globe-top gas pump stood next to the door. Jeeps were everywhere, with a few old Ford Bronco's and a pickup truck or two mixed in for variety. John Kooper was the proprietor's name. All his friends called him Koop. He specialized in vintage Jeeps, some of them hard-core rock crawlers for off road use only. He was under a Jeep that was up on the shop's lift when Kelsey walked in. He bumped his head when he saw her, standing there in her favorite green bikini top and faded Levi's. She hated wearing long pants in the summertime, but the day was cool and drizzly.
"You must be Kelsey," Koop said. "It was the ignition coil. Easy fix. Sorry you got stranded, but these old engines can be more finicky than new cars. Not bad, but stuff like a bad coil can sneak up on you."
"You all set, Honey?" Kay yelled from her car window.
"Yeah, Mom," Kelsey yelled. "Thanks."
Kay waved and drove away.
"So what's a coil do?" Kelsey asked Koop.
"Oh, well, it takes an electrical charge from the battery, twelve volts, and it converts it, sort of like a transformer, up to thirty-thousand volts. It's what makes the juice that makes your spark plugs spark." Koop rummaged in the trash. "Here's your old one. Nothin' much to it. Not too expensive. There's no charge for you of course. Your father only bought Old Red a couple weeks ago."
"So where's it go?" she asked, looking up at the undercarriage of the Jeep above her head.
"Oh. It's up on top. Here, I'll show you."
Koop walked over to an old Willys Jeep from the forties that another man was working on. He pointed under the hood to the coil.
"Right there," Koop said. "It's usually near the distributor. That's the thing with all the wires coming out of the top of it."
Kelsey leaned her forearms on the top of the fender the way Koop was doing, right across from him. The chartreuse-green bikini was her favorite because it was the least constricting of any she owned. Just thin pieces of unlined soft cotton and some string. Her tits pretty much did their own thing when she wore it, and they were hanging beautifully under her as Koop talked. She could feel him looking at her, so she moved suddenly to make everything jiggle. Her hardening nipples added to the effect. Koop was so distracted he hit his head again, on the underside of the hood.
"This one's old, isn't it?" Kelsey asked.
"Nineteen forty-four," Koop said. "Built for World War Two. Belongs to Happy there. He worked on yours when we put it together."
"Oh, cool!" Kelsey said. "Hi, Happy!"
"Hello," Happy said, sounding anything but.
"You know, I've driven by here, but this is all so cool!" Kelsey said as she looked around at the old shop. "Is it all right if I stop in and say hi sometime?"
"We'd love it Kelsey. I always like to keep track of my babies," Koop said, looking at the red one out under the carport roof. "You goin' swimmin' in all this rain today?" he asked, glancing again at the big tits barely contained by the bikini.
"No, not today," she said, looking out at the spitting drizzle. "Looks like the rain's almost stopped though. I guess I'll wait here 'till it does. I forgot to bring my top with me."
"Sure, make yourself at home," Koop said.
He picked up an air hammer and went back to work on the Jeep on the lift, cutting the old rusty exhaust system into pieces. Kelsey settled in on an old vinyl couch-like thing, part of a booth from a diner. She picked up a grease stained street rod magazine and pretended to look at it, but she was really watching Koop. He was older than her dad, fifty maybe, with soft brown eyes. A little bit of gray added interest to his brown hair. Tattoos on his arms made him look like a bad-ass, but she could tell he wasn't one.
Kelsey liked the way he wore his jeans. Not too tight, the way some guys like to show off, but not too loose either. Just right. His t-shirt was the same, it fit him well and let Kelsey see the muscles working in his shoulders when he had the jarringly loud tool above his head. The shirt was a little short, shrunk from hundreds of washings she guessed. When he put both his hands up to wrestle with the old muffler she could see his treasure trail, the nice strip of soft dark hair that led down the center of his lower belly and disappeared in his bluejeans. The muffler came loose and hit the floor with a metallic bang.
"Sorry. It gets kinda loud around here," he said.
Kelsey just smiled. She was leaning back languidly on the seat, looking like one of the photo models in the very magazine she was holding. Betties, they called them.
"Do they use models in the Jeep magazines, too?" she asked, turning the photo spread of the Bettie leaning on a street rod toward Koop so he could see it.
"Nope. If they ever do I'll give you a call," he smiled.
Kelsey was fascinated by the picture. The girl was dressed in lingerie from the fifties — a girdle-like thing with built-in straps to hold her stockings up. The stockings had lines up the back of them, like Kelsey had seen in a movie one time. The girl's makeup and jet-black hair looked old-fashioned and timeless, too — straight-cut bangs and richly colored red lipstick. Kelsey hadn't spent much time in front of a camera with her clothes on. She wondered how a girl would get to do such a thing, modeling with cool cars for a magazine.
When the drizzle stopped, Koop walked Kelsey out. He couldn't help but check out her ass when she climbed into the Jeep he called Old Red. She looked at the one parked next to her, noticing the seat in the back. Hers didn't have one.
"Do they make a backseat to fit mine?" she asked.
