The radio said it was 110 degrees, a record-breaking heat, as Dane sat on the highway in his rebuilt 1968 Chevelle, wondering if he would ever get home. Traffic was crawling along at a snail’s pace. Did you ever wonder if you can actually call it driving if you are not pushing the gas pedal but, rather, just taking your foot off the brake and rolling? This is what he was pondering when the worst happened – smoke started to billow from his engine.

“Shit! Lola, baby, no, don’t do this to Daddy,” Dane pleaded to his beloved car as he got out, and the inevitable chorus of honking started from angry commuters behind him.

Knowing there was really nothing he could do in the middle of I-35, he jumped back in the car, kissed the St. Christopher medal hanging on the rear-view mirror, and said, “Ok, Lola baby, we need to make it to that exit right there. You can do it, Lola. I know you can.” And he rubbed the dashboard gently.

Still rolling more than driving, Dane and Lola crept the short distance to the exit. Dane said a short prayer of thanks that the ramp was a downward slope and that the service station was just across the road at the bottom. So, they just let gravity take them down the hill and right into the parking lot. Once stopped, Dane and Lola left off a little more steam.

Dane stepped out into the oppressive heat and instantly was covered in a layer of sweat from the humidity. Looking around, he realized that this service station looked like something out of 1951 instead of 2021; very Leave it to Beaver.

“Just our luck, the fucking place won’t even be open,” he said, looking back at Lola. “Baby girl, we might be screwed.” Dane surveyed the surroundings, and it occurred to him that there was not anything else in sight. No hotels, restaurants, not even another gas station. “Oh shit, we really may be screwed, baby girl,” with a little more doom in his voice.

Dane could feel the rivets of sweat rolling from his neck down across his chest and six-pack. He had already ditched the jacket and tie; he might as well get rid of this shirt, too, since no one was around. He unbuttoned his shirt, which had lost its starched creases long ago, and threw it in the back seat with the rest of his clothes. Chuckling, he thought to himself that he was definitely missing his workout tonight. Maybe he could do some reps with old tires or something.

Jeez, what a shitty night.

“Don’t worry, baby, Daddy’s going to take care of us,” he said as he patted Lola. Dane turned to the garage again, thinking there must be a phone in there at least, but stopped short when he saw the tiniest little mechanic leaned against a car in the shadow just inside the garage. She couldn’t be more than 5’2” to his 6’6”. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, with hair escaping every which way. Her eyes were a delicious chocolate brown that just welcomed you in to talk or laugh or cry or whatever. Her heart-shaped face and dimpled cheeks seemed to be smiling even when she didn’t aim to be. She didn’t have any makeup on, and he doubted she ever wore it. She didn’t need it; her face was kissed with a thousand freckles and an inner glow. Plus, the swipe of motor oil across her cheek was a cute touch. She wore a red tank top under denim overalls rolled up clear to her knees, white socks, and checkered converse. She was a compact little thing, thick in a muscular way; her biceps and triceps rivaled his. Her breasts were pert and the perfect size for her body. And he would put money on a great ass under those overalls. She was not the tall, lean, big-boob type that he normally went for, but maybe that was a good thing. There was something about her.

Dane was now very aware that he was half-naked, and a little thrown off by his immediate attraction to her, he blurted out, “Oh, thank God for you!”

He cringed and tried to rebound.

“What I mean to say is, I got overheated just now, the car did, I mean. And you were here, so I had to push into you. The car! I had to push the car to you, I mean by myself almost. You know what I mean, so I came in you, um, shit. Came to you to check under my hood. I was smoking, no, the car, the car was smoking. Can someone look at my car, please? It was smoking on the highway.”

Shit, he thought, what is wrong with me!

“Hun, I think you’re gettin’ overheated. You’re talkn’ to yourself, and you sound like you’re drunk as a skunk. Come in outta the sun an’ get you a water.”

She had just the gentlest hint of a southern accent that reminded you of sweet tea steeping in the sun and an apple pie sitting on the windowsill. Dane couldn’t help but smile despite the uncomfortable heat and the fact that she thought he was crazy as a loon.

“Yes, baby, I can look at your car right now. Why don’t you give me the keys, and you go grab a water in that office while I look under your hood?” She looked at him and winked. When she said the word, baby, there was just that extra beat on the first syllable; it excited him. Then their hands touched when exchanging the keys, and lingered just a moment too long, and stirred him just a little more.

The inside of the station was no reprieve from the heat. If anything, it was more stifling. He grabbed two waters from the large refrigerator, leaned into its refreshing arctic blast for a moment longer, and walked back out to the garage.

“Lola,” he muttered, taking a swig.

“No, hun, my name is Caroline. I don’t know a Lola around here. I’m sorry,” she said, looking genuinely concerned about him.

“No, let me start over,” he shook his head and chuckled. He finished his water and put the other on the edge of Lola for Caroline.

“Caroline, this is Lola,” he said, patting Lola lovingly on the roof, “aka, baby girl. My dad restored her before he died, and so she is very important to me.”

“Oh, so you were talking to her. Lola. I get it now. Yeah, I never really understood the naming the car thing, but cool. Hello Lola, I promise I’ll be gentle,” Caroline said.

“So, you are the mechanic?” he said, trying to disguise his skepticism.

“Well, you are welcome to take Lola to the next station, which is ten miles down the road, where they have a guy mechanic. But here, I am the mechanic. So, before I start, are you staying or going?” she said with indignation and a hand firmly planted on her hip.

“No, no, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. We are staying!” Dane said apologetically.

Dane was not used to being talked to like that, given an ultimatum. The women in his life were not strong like this and willing to challenge him. Caroline was really making his head spin and making him more than a little hard. And he was painfully aware that his excitement was starting to be obvious.

“So, how did you come to be a mechanic? It is not a typical career for a woman, is it?” He regretted that he continued to dig this hole as soon as the words came out of his mouth. Dammit!

“What is your issue with a woman being a mechanic? I suppose you don’t think that a woman should be a lawyer or a doctor, or work on an oil rig or any other thing where you must be as smart or as strong as a man! In your mind, the little woman should stay at home with the kids and have dinner ready when you get home from work. Fuck that!” The words sounded wrong coming out of that mouth. But now both hands were on her hips firmly, and one held a very large wrench, and she was less apple pie and more rattlesnake.

He took a large step back. “I am sorry. That came out wrong. It was just poorly chosen words. I was just trying to chit-chat with you. Seriously, I apologize.”

With a huff, she returned to Lola, and an awkward silence dropped like a veil between them. Dane decided it better to keep his mouth shut. But he did watch as her small hands worked expertly over the engine. Her one hand moved in and out, twisting this valve, and then second hand moving in quickly, and with purpose, to work another line. With a concentrated, “hmm,” she pulled both hands out, and they were covered in a thick, silky, oily substance. She quickly wiped that off and eagerly and moved back in for more.

“If you really want to know, I worked in my Daddy’s shop back home, and he taught me everything I know about cars. Then I moved up here, and this is my shop. Damnit,” she uttered under her breath. She went to open a canister, but the lid was stuck.

“Ok, relax now, Lola, I need to open you up.” The second twist was still unsuccessful.

Dane stepped in, sure that he would be successful in opening the canister for Caroline. But as hard as he twisted, that lid would not budge.

“Lola, I’m going to have to get my toys now.” Caroline walked to her workbench, grabbed a spray can and a screwdriver. She sprayed up under the lid, lubing up all the ridges under the tight cap. Then she tapped gently all around the cover. “Here we go, Lola.” She twisted the lid for the third time, and after initial resistance, it released and opened easily.

“Some girls just need a gentler touch, right Lola!” she said with that intoxicating accent and giggled as she looked at me.

As she turned her back to put things away, all Dane could do was close his eyes and breathe. He was trying hard to fight the urge to rub his cock there in the garage (or worse, ask her to). The pulsing from his arousal was drumming clear up to his ears, and it was deafening. He was fantasizing about taking Caroline right here on the garage floor when the sound of Lola’s hood closing snapped him back to reality, and he noticed Caroline looking at him, obviously waiting for an answer.

“I said your problem was low coolant and a few clogged lines. I got you all cleaned out and taken care of; Lola is good to go,” she said. “Why don’t we go in the office while I get your receipt ready.”

Dane followed her into the office, trying to think fast for something to say to her that would keep him here longer. Again, this was such a role reversal for him; usually, he pushed the girls away, not working so hard for their attention. Was this a good thing? He didn’t take time to contemplate, as she stood at the counter writing up the bill, Dane fumbled

“Man, this heat can make a person crazy, huh?”

“I’m sorry?” she said as she continued writing.

“Well, I just mean that when it’s this hot, you can do things that you never thought you would,” he pushed a little more.

“I suppose so,” she turned to look at him, and that was all it took.

Dane didn’t know if it was the heat, hormones, or just the fact that he hadn’t gotten laid in a little while, but he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her hard. He pulled away after a few seconds to let her breathe and gauge her reaction.

Though her coffee-colored eyes were as big as saucers and conveyed shock, after a second, she nodded her head vigorously and waved him to come closer again.

Instead, Dane picked her up easily and sat her gingerly on the counter, eliminating the height difference between them.

“Some girls need a gentler touch,” he grinned, repeating her own words back to her. And placed a hand gently on the back of her neck and pulled her close. Caroline whimpered as their lips met. If they had been standing, she knew in her mind that this would have been a foot-popping kiss.

The heat in their kiss grew, moving from the lips of strangers still needing a map to navigate, to the lips of life-long lovers who knew every bend in the road. They both noted simultaneously that they had not enjoyed kissing for this long in forever. This only fueled the fire between them, tongues taking a moment to explore an ear, a salty spot on a neck or a collar bone, even a tenderly placed kiss on the forehead, but always coming back to the lips. The heat was now officially passion, deep passion. Their tongues were fighting for control and not caring really who won, both moaning from the sheer intensity of the moment.

“Caroline, I want you,” he whispered in her ear.

She pulled away, looked him in the eye, seeing the pleading in his deep ocean blue eyes. He saw the permission in her eyes and her face before she said it, but he wouldn’t dare assume. He waited for her to say the words.

“Then take me, please, Dane. Take me”

He picked her up easily; she wrapped her legs around his waist, softly giggling into his neck. He walked to a green couch in the corner of the office, knelt, and placed her gently on the cushion. He ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping the oil smudge away, and kissed her softly.

Once we were both undressed, he kissed her collar bone, her neck, and then her lips once more. Then with the deepest of kisses, she felt him enter her — so gently, with no rush, no force so that they could both enjoy those first seconds when her walls gripped him and pulled him in, filling her opening with his girth. They moaned into each other’s mouths through their kiss in this moment. They felt the same scorching need with their tongues as they did with his train going into her tunnel.

He pushed slowly, gently spreading her to meet the demands of his large member until he was fully immersed in her wet box. Then he stopped, stayed buried in her. She contracted and relaxed on him, and he moaned louder but didn’t move from the depths of his pleasure. He kissed her mouth, neck, ears, and chest, all while staying so still in her. She could feel him pulsating as she squeezed. His eyes gleamed when he looked at her and smiled.

Then he started with the tiniest of movements, barely noticeable at first. In and out. In and out. Now he was the expert, working her engine. The pumping got faster and faster, never rough; always tender. They kissed hard, though, as she felt his length pull out and enter her again with each motion. She howled in pleasure over his tongue that was thrashing in her mouth. In one move, he flipped them over, never leaving her tunnel. She was on top now, his hands pulling down on her hips, and she started to ride this stallion of a man. He leaned up to suckle a nipple, and she pulled his head into her and rode him a little faster at this beautiful closeness. Kissing his head and running her fingernails down his back, she leaned back just a little, and he hit the spot.

She screamed out. He knew she was close. He took her hips and pushed her hard on him. She steadied herself on his shoulders and rode him faster. She could feel the muscles contracting deep in her soul and building up, she looked him in the eye, and he knew she was ready. He growled deeply, and she squealed loudly as they each drenched each other in a much-needed release that went on for wave after wave of orgasmic delight.

After a few minutes of sweaty cuddling, Dane cleaned up in the bathroom, and when he came out, she stood there with the keys and another bottle of water in hand. He took both and said, “I told you the heat can make you do crazy things,” eliciting an adorable laugh. He got in the car; she closed the door and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you for fixing Lola and for everything,” he smiled.

“My deepest pleasure,” she said. “Stop in and say hi if ya come to this side of town again.”

Dane drove home with a smile, trying to decide if he would come back in again or if this should just be a one-time beautiful encounter.

On the elevator in his apartment building, his neighbor asked if he was surviving the heat and then looked a little closer and asked, “What is that black stuff on your neck?”

“Oh jeez, I had car trouble on the way home,” and he grinned like a Cheshire cat.