Rattle, clunk. Every bump or hole that Carter couldn't evade made him wince. The noise coming from the front suspension of his battered Ford Edge could not be good. Any time now, the front wheels would fly off. He was sure of it.

Carter cursed himself for not making the appointment sooner.

He was too busy.

It wasn't that big of a deal.

It would go away on its own.

All excuses to cover the fact that he really just didn't feel like it.

He pulled off the road into the auto repair shop's lot. Cars of various makes were scattered around the small blue building. Two open service bays lined the side. A lone Harley-Davidson motorcycle sat in the spot closest to the office door.

Carter parked in an open spot near the motorcycle. The bike was stripped of most everything but the barest of essentials. He thought it unusual there was very little chrome on this bike. Most motorcycles he saw were practically dipped in the reflective metal. The handlebars were higher than a normal bike, but not as obscenely high as those choppers from TV. Carter chuckled to himself as he imagined a short, fat guy, covered in tattoos, riding his 'hog'.

The office door was propped open with a rust covered brake rotor as a makeshift door stop. Carter poked his head inside. A thick plastic curtain separated the office from the shop area. Three old chairs lined the wall, a small table covered in motorcycle and car magazines in front of them. A desk sat nestled in the corner, stacks of paper and empty parts boxes strewn across its top. Nobody was home.

Carter rounded the corner of the repair shop. The first service bay was empty. In the second bay sat a bright blue Ford Mustang, its scooped hood open. Draped over the driver's front fender was a tall, redheaded woman. Carter studied her from outside the door. Black sneakers that were scuffed and worn. Her legs were long and shapely. The gray work pants she wore perfectly fit her round, tight ass. Curly red hair tied up on the back of her head.

“Jesus,” Carter whispered to himself. He approached the bay. “Uhm, excuse me.”

She stepped out from under the hood of the Mustang. She was taller than Carter had first thought, nearly the same height as himself. Her shirt was black with silver buttons, the top few undone.

“Good morning. What can I do for you?” She wiped her hands with a red rag. Her right arm covered in an intricate tattoo that Carter couldn't quite make out. Above her left breast was a patch that read, 'Trusty E's Automotive'. Above the right was a name, Erin.

“Carter. Carter Ware. I have an appointment this morning.”

She stuffed the rag in her back pocket. “Ford Edge? Noise in the front end?”

Carter nodded. “Yea. That's me.”

She stood in front of him and held out her hand. Her fingernails were cut close and painted purple. On the pale skin of her wrist was tattooed XXVII. The Roman numerals for 27. She cocked a trimmed, red eyebrow. Carter felt her gray-blue eyes on him. His face grew hot.

“Oh, sorry.” He fished the car keys from his pocket and placed them in her open palm.

She gave him a wink. “You can wait in the office, Carter.”

As she brushed past him, Carter caught the scent of strawberries from her hair. He followed several steps behind, watching her hips sway. He chuckled to himself when he reached the office. Carter ducked in and took a seat in the chair closest to the window.

Carter absently flipped through a magazine full of cars he could never afford. He sighed and returned the magazine to the table. Erin, the mechanic, stuck her head through the plastic divider curtain. Carter noticed she had let her hair down. Tousled red curls fell about her face.

“Hey, Carter. I'd like to show you something. If you don't mind?” She held the curtain open for him to step through.

His stomach dropped, this could not be good. And probably expensive. He rose from the chair slowly. Took a deep breath, and stepped past Erin, and through the curtain.

Carter's Edge was on the lift. He had never seen the bottom of his car before. Erin joined him under the car. She smelled of strawberries and motor oil.

“First.” She pointed at the passenger rear tire. “These tires are at three thirty-seconds. They need to be replaced.”

Next, she pointed at what Carter assumed to be the driveshaft. “The carrier bearing is pretty dry, I'd recommend replacing that before it fails.”

Carter ignored the bearing, instead focusing on her purple polished nail. Her long finger, a small cut on her knuckle, the raised vein on her muscular forearm, thin hairs catching the light. The black and gray ink of the tattoo that covered her skin. Intricate knots, weaving in and out of each other. He couldn't tell if they were Celtic or Norse. What appeared to be a dog or maybe a wolf peaked out from under her sleeve.

“Carter. I need you to pay attention.”

Her voice snapped him out of his daydream, and his face grew hot. “Uhm. Sorry.”

“Your noise is from these sway bar end links. They're shot. It's an easy fix.”

He looked at the suspension components in the driver's front wheel well. “Okay.” He sighed. “How much for the, um? Sway bar things?”

She thought about it for several seconds. “About two-hundred.” She locked eyes with him. “Look. Carter. If money is an issue.” She paused. Took a step closer. She stood inches from him. Her eyes nearly level with his. “We could work something out.”

Carter was shocked. Did she just insinuate? No. But still. He took a step back.

“Uhm, sorry?” He chuckled uneasily.

She closed the gap. “I saw you checking out my ass, Carter.”

His face grew hot. Again. He knew it would be hard to deny it with his face bright red.

“I....ah.” He couldn't think of anything to say. He backed up again, trying to put distance between them.

Erin closed the gap. Again. Carter's heart raced.

“What would you like to do?” She cocked an eyebrow. “To me, Carter?”

“I... uh.” He took another step back and bumped into the blue Mustang. His palms, sweaty.

Erin closed the gap. Closer than before. Her breath on his chin. Her eyes narrowed.

“What would you like me to do to you?” She placed her hands on his chest. She shoved him, firmly, against the Mustang. Carter lost his balance, and sat on the fender.

Erin climbed onto the fender, straddling Carter's lap. Her face above his, her hand tangled in the hair at the back of his head. His breath quickened, mouth dry. She pulled his hair, tilting his head back.

“You're awfully quiet, Carter,” she purred.

He licked his lips, and tried to speak. She silenced him by pressing her mouth hungrily against his, her tongue forcing its way between his parted lips. Their tongues intertwined, Carter's hands cupped her buttocks. He squeezed, her ass firm and solid. Erin broke the kiss, leaving him gasping for breath. She frantically tore at the buttons of her shirt, tearing it free and tossing it away. Erin wrenched her black sports bra over her head. Her breasts were small and round, her nipples red and erect.

Erin's hands slipped between them, her fingers deftly unbuttoned his Jeans. Carter's breath hitched, reality crashed in around him—his thoughts snapping to Maggie, his long time girlfriend. The reserved, modest woman he was sure to marry. His stomach twisted. He grabbed Erin's wrists. “I can't.”

Erin pulled free from his grasp and dropped off the fender of the muscle car. She yanked his jeans down his legs.

“Jesus fuck!” Carter sat exposed on the hood of the Mustang, his erect cock standing at full attention.

Erin smirked. “Looks to me like you can.” Her hand closed around his erection, drawing a sharp yelp from him.

She squeezed and pumped, her grip relentless. Carter felt wave after wave of pleasure with each stroke. She was stronger than he could have imagined.

“Do you like that?” She shortened her strokes, her grip softening as she added a twisting motion.

“Jesus. Yes.”

He jerked when her thumb slid through the precum leaking from his tip. She leaned in close, her breath hot against his ear, her voice raspy. “Do you want to fuck me, Carter?”

As he was about to answer, she squeezed his cock again, forcing a moan from his lips.

“Fuck yes,” he managed to whisper.

Erin released his cock and stepped back, giving him a good view as she removed her pants. Carter's chest heaved as he watched her unbutton her work pants, the tattoo on her right arm now in full view—a snarling wolf amidst intricate knot work. She made a show of lowering her pants past her hips, revealing well-toned thighs. The muscles rolled beneath smooth skin as she stepped out of her pants, a strip of red hair over her pussy, a small screaming skull tattooed on her left hip.

Using the front tire of the Mustang as a step, she climbed onto the fender, positioning herself over Carter. He watched as she squatted, and slowly lowered herself onto his cock. Carter shuddered as her wet pussy lips passed over the sensitive head of his cock.

“Do you like my pussy?” she cooed.

Carter grunted as she began to slowly fuck him. “Oh yeah.”

She gripped his throat with her right hand, her eyes locked on his. “Say it. Say you like my pussy.”

“I like your pussy,” he croaked.

She picked up speed, her hips rising and falling the entire length of his shaft. Her voice turned husky. “Say you love my pussy.”

“I love your pussy.” He gasped.

Erin fucked him harder now, her tight ass slapping against his thighs, his balls bouncing off the metal fender of the Mustang. The muscle cars suspension bounced and groaned with the rhythm of their bodies. She released his throat, planting her hands on his chest for leverage. She threw her head back, muscles in her shoulders and arms flexing as she moved. Her chest flushed red, and she grunted and groaned like a wild animal, her pussy clenching around his cock.

The pressure overwhelmed him, and Carter's cock erupted. His body spasmed. His eyes squeezed shut as he gasped and grunted with each spasm. His cock twitched and pulsed as he came.

He shuddered as she kept riding him, slower now, milking his cock. When he could finally open his eyes, he found Erin grinning down at him. “Did you like that?”

“Fuck yeah.”

Erin let his cock slide out, their combined juices followed, dripping onto Carter and the blue paint of the Mustang. She settled beside him on the fender, running her fingers along his softening cock. A smirk played on her lips as she glanced back at him.

Carter's cock twitched under her touch. “So, how much are tires gonna cost me?”