RattlersRevival Jun 29th, 2020 (edited) 478 Never
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- The weather was perfect on that lazy sunday dusk. The sunset sat heavy on the hill and called out with the last peachy rays of light of the day, mixing into violet which faded out into black. The half-faced moon rose to my back as I walked past a small garden of brilliantly purple flowers that waved as I passed by. Cooler in hand, I continued on to the barndominium, warm light flooding the ground around me as it poured out from the mouth of the open garage door. Faint tunes of George Jones seeped out into the mild outside air, only avoiding being drowned out by the buzzing of cicadas by the distinct voice of its singer. Inside, an intricate web of metal, a titanic roll cage, sat heavy on gigantic 50 inch swampers that were wider than me. Their connection point to the mechanical monstrosity being a set of 2.5 ton rock well axles. Monstrous bars of iron stretching from one side of the buggy to the other. Beneath this mechanical behemoth, a faint sparking of light and shuffling of shadow on the shop floor could be seen. Little grumbles and and the buzzing of a welder piped up every so often.
- I strolled into the workshop, circling around the buggy, and set it down to the back of a sat down gremlin who was busy inspecting her perfectly dimed welds. A dark furred ear flicked at the sound, and the welder was set down onto the concrete floor.
- "Welcome back, assistant. Finally making yourself useful?"
- I scoffed at her behavior. A little too self assured, as always.
- "You seem to forget I own this shop."
- A grime besmattered face peaks over her shoulder, dark amber eyes smiling and a smirk pulling up the edge of her mouth. Goggles outfitted with recantangular lenses rested on her forehead.
- "Maybe. Then again, I remember being the one who does all the work."
- She scoots herself backward and turns around to face me, her orange jump suit strains against her chest as she leans forward to leer at me from her sitting posistion. Hard to believe how tightly it fits her considering it's the largest size a gremlin can get.
- "But, I guess we can't all be wrench turners.", she snickers.
- "And of all those times I've worked on a build?"
- "Eh, I allow you to. I know it makes you feel better.", she replies with a shrug.
- "Glad to know you care about my feelings, Shelby."
- A moment of mock indignation flashes on her face, and she hops up from her sitting posistion, coming up to her full height of a whopping 4'9", barely coming up to my chest.
- "Well of course I do, assistant. I do love you, after all."
- She throws both of her gloves on the ground and wipes a bead of sweat that rolls down her brow.
- "Even if you still haven't installed a damn airconditioner in this place."
- Shelby unzips her jumpsuit, and as soon as it goes past her chest, all tension in it gets let loose. Two mountains of flesh come pouring out, covered by a white white tank top dripping with sweat, which glistens off her smoothe pale skin. Her choice to go without a braw today is very obvious through the soaked fabric that hugs close to her breasts.
- I can't help but stare, and she sure as hell noticed based on the smug smile and quirked eyebrow she has.
- "Well what, anon? Ya' like what ya' see?"
- She hefts each mound of flesh in her hands, which are completely dwarfed by their size, bouncing them lightly.
- "Just like those nip cartoons you used to watch, right?"
- I manage to finally pull my eyes away and roll them.
- "You want your drinks or not?"
- Shelby lets her breasts drop and puts her hands on her hips.
- "Isn't there something you owe me first?"
- She beckons me forward with a little wave of the hand and I oblige, squatting down to meet her eye-to-eye. Now, usually it's just a little peck on the cheek. A small welcome home present. I guess this time she fogured she was owed something a little more than that, because she swung her arms around my neck and her legs over my hips, locking them together behind my back. Lips crashed against lips and and I was shocked, standing upright suddenly. For moments that lasted centuries, the garage went from ninety degrees to ten thousand as tongue beat and battered against tongue in the blast furnace that was sealed together by our kiss. It wasn't until my brain finally registered the reassuring softness of her lips that I returned from that dizzying high, the heat simmering down to sweltering. I began to return the favor, tongues no longer battering but instead interlocked, churning perfect together as a spider gear against a ring gear. I embraced her, squeezing our bodies together, the softness of her chest thrumming with a quickened yet slowly steadying heart beat that matched my own. We pulled away from it, the hot air feeling refreshing in my mouth as we took a moment to breathe.
- "You ever thought about warning me when you do that?"
- Shelby looked up and tilted her head from side to side as if weighing a decision.
- "No, not really."
- Two can play at this game.
- I retaliate with an assualt of my own. Not on her mouth, but on her left ear. A sudden, aggressive nibbling attck. As soon as my teeth first chitter lightly on her ear, Shelby's entire body stiffens like she grabbed a live wire. She constricts around me, breath hitching, and for a moment she's paralyzed completely. But, movement resumes. Shivering, squiriming against me. Each nibble a bolt a lightning through her nervous system. One moment she tries to escape the nibbling, the next she involuntary jolts back into me. Little gasps intermingle with moans straining to be hidden. Her hips grind against my abdomen, her leg lock tightening. I give her a side glance, watching as she bites her bottom lip and her face flushes red. I can feel her fingers dig into my back as she tries to fill in the gaps between us. And, just as fast as I started, I stop. I hold the gremlin up for a second, her legs and arms having gone limp from the torment. Shelby's chest rises and falls in deep breaths, and she seems to be covered in more sweat than I had remembered. I set her down and she regains her footing before looking up at me, face beet red as she realizes what happened.
- "Y-you'll pay for that.", Shelby stammers out.
- "You're right. I'll get you you're AC as an apology, then we're even."
- We return to the task at hand. The client's buggy looks to be just about done. I take a bit to inspect the vehicle as Shelby digs into the ice chest behind me. A little investigation into the undercarriage reveals a couple of bolts not put into the skid plate. I look behind me to see the gremlin bent over, half her body in the cooler.
- "Hey, are you planning to put the rest of these bolts in?"
- An annoyed pout pops out of the cooler, the silver pouch of a Capri-Sun glistening in one hand as she looks at me.
- "Nah. I thought I'd just let the customer find out when his transfer case gets ripped out on the trail.", she answers with an almost worrying sincerity.
- "Well, guess I have to fix your glaring oversight then."
- Shelby stops in her unsleeving of the straw and her annoyance turns to a smirk.
- "Alright, alright. Let me finish my juice before you mess anything up."
- She haphazardly stabs the straw into the pouch and with a speed that'd make a vampire blush drains it of its liquid. Shelby tosses it aside and saunters over, grabbing a ratchet wrench, a couple of bolts, washers, and the impact wrench. She sits down under the vehicle and scoots further under its belly, setting her tools closer to the edge of the vehicle where I crouch.
- "Hey, assistant. You mind handing me the ratchet?"
- I grab the tool and waddle my way over to her under the rock bouncer, reaching her side and holding the tool out for her. She absentmindedly reaches over without a glance, hand going straight past the wrench and down to my pants. A firm squeeze of mini-me is enough to arouse my second head.
- "Oh? That's much bigger than I remember it being."
- It takes me a moment to realize what she just did before I move her hand away.
- "What?", she asks, turning towards me with mischievous amber eyes.
- "We've got a job to do."
- The gremlin rolls her eyes and takes the ratchet from my hand, refocussing on her work. I can hear her grumble something about "no fun".
- In less than 10 minutes she has all bolts tightened down with the impact. Much slower than usual, but it is a lazy sunday evening.
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