Another submission in the Cara J. the Librarian series, a group of stories based on a real life closet lesbian librarian with very eclectic tastes and a secret passion for young, hairy women..
*****
When the lights in Cara's car started flashing and the power slowly died, it was just another insult to the last 24 hours in the life of the librarian. Having to drive out to the Adirondack Mountains to deliver a speech to the upstate library council was bad enough, but the night before after wooing a cute bartender with deliciously furry arms all night in the bar, the girl then says her husband was picking her up after her shift. Her husband? Cara had been livid.
Then this morning after delivering her speech to a bunch of old bags with hangovers who were enjoying pissing away taxpayers money on this conference at the hotel, Cara had skipped the afternoon session so she could get home. That was when her cLexusdecided to die somewhere south of Old Forge, and then she was forced to stew on the side of the road because there was no cell service out here. Luckily a state trooper stopped and offered to call her a tow truck.
"Hank will come get it, and she does good work too," the cop claimed, and although Cara thought she hadn't heard the trooper right, when the tow truck came the Hank referred to was indeed a woman.
"Hank's my nickname and I never fought it because I hate my real name. Henrietta," the service station owner snapped as Cara climbed in the cab of the truck.
Hank was not a woman Cara would have paid any attention to usually, because the middle aged librarian favored furry and petite girls much younger than her, but there was something about the woman at the wheel that got Cara's attention. Part of it was because Hank was a woman doing a job that was dominated by men, a turn on for her, but there was more to the attraction than that.
Hank was no delicate flower, that much Cara could tell even though the androgynous blue grey work suit had hidden everything. The masculine looking woman had rough features; a ruddy complexion and forearms that bulged as she turned the wheel. A real butch, as opposed to Cara who thought of herself as more of a soft butch at least in looks.
Cara had thought of her recent experience with the woman who fixed the elevator at the library, and the way that no-nonsense dyke had treated her was coarse and cruel. In many ways much like the way she treated her own conquests, and while Cara vowed to herself that it was just a one time thing, here she was flirting with this woman with the greasy jump suit and grubby hands.
The service station was little more than a garage with a little office attached, run down and obviously a one person operation. Hank managed to get the Lexus into the bay and suggested Cara could wait in the little office until she figured out what was wrong with the car.
From the other side of the dirty window Cara watched the muscular woman raise the car up on the lift, and as her nipples stiffened it struck her that she was still wearing the blazer and slacks she had delivered her speech in, and while there was little she could do about the outerwear there was no good reason to keep wearing the restrictive band that bound her over-sized breasts and shielded them from leering men's eyes..
Ducking into the little bathroom Cara shed the blazer and blouse so she could unwrap her full bosom, and after massaging a little feeling into the doughy teats she decided to forego putting the blouse on and simply put the blazer on, letting her breasts sway free. When she emerged from the stagnant stall she was surprised to see that Hank was talking to a kid in the garage, a scrawny waif who didn't appear to be the sharpest knife in the drawer, and then after Hank gestured her way the girl looked at Cara and shrugged before walking around to the office.
"Hank wants to know if you want a cup of coffee or something. I can go down to the easy mart and get one for you if you like," the kid said, and when Cara noticed her eyes lowering to her chest she realized that the blazer wasn't doing much to hide her deep cleavage, something that the girl noticed and seemed fascinated by.
"No thank you," Cara replied, enjoying the way the girl folded her arms across her own scrawny chest as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Are you Hank's girl?"
"Yes ma'am. I'm Audrey. She calls me Baby sometimes but my real name is Audrey."
With that the girl left and went back to the garage, where before leaving she exchanged a kiss with the mechanic that made it clear that while she might have been Hank's girl, Audrey wasn't her daughter as the librarian had guessed. Then when the girl left, she got into a rusty old Toyota that indicated Audrey wasn't as young as she looked.
After the kid left Cara wandered into the garage where Hank was standing under the Lexus with her arm up on the tire. The fabric of the short sleeve of the one piece jump suit slid up towards her broad shoulder, exposing a blazing red and black tattoo on her bicep, and while the librarian wasn't much on tattoos, what was peeking out from under Hank's arm was another thing all together.
"Your alternator shit the bed," the coarse woman informed Cara. "You have a little brake fluid leak too. Nothing that bad but something you might want to have looked at by the dealer when you get home, because this thing isn't old enough for that crap to be happening."
"Can you replace the alternator?" Cara asked, taking the opportunity to move over towards Hank to allow her a better look up under the mechanic's sleeve.
Hank didn't seem to notice what Cara was up to initially because she had noticed what was struggling to be contained under the stylish black blazer, and she looked at Cara's cleavage even less subtly than Audrey had.
"Sure."
"I know there's probably insurance regulations that forbid it, but do you mind if I stay out here with you?" Cara asked. "Your magazines are kind of old."
"No, I like the company," Hank responded with a snicker. "Hell, if the car falls off and lands on you, you might end up owning this place. Serve you right."
"The place come with your girl?" Cara mused aloud.
"Who? Baby? Yeah, I think you might have to take Audrey too if you end up with this joint. She's like a stray cat that I fed and can't get rid of," Hank explained. "Taught a BOCES class on auto repair years ago and now here she is still."
"So, she's not your daughter?"
"No," Hank said, quickly adding, "Baby's not as young as she looks. Kinky little thing too."
"Lucky lady," Cara answered. "Her more than you I mean."
"You think so?" Hank grinned, showing a slightly tipped front tooth on an otherwise nice smile. "I've been told I'm what they call an acquired taste."
"You though?" Hank mused aloud as she stared at the open V of the top of Cara's blazer. "You sure look different now than you did on the side of the road."
"Quiet out here so I decided to let them relax," Cara said before impulsively deciding to unbutton the two buttons of the blazer, and as the garment parted the mechanic left out a low whistle of approval while staring at the massive bell shaped breasts that dominated the diminutive woman's frame. "If anybody pulls in here I'll button back up.
"Not much chance of that. Even since I stopped selling gas all I get interrupted by is calls from damsels in distress like you," Hank replied. "I have a hunch Audrey got a look at you before she left."
