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A Young Desert Rose, Chapter 2

  • Posted on February 25, 2017 at 3:58 pm

By Sunnybunny

Angie’s reservations seemed to evaporate entirely once Heather was behind the wheel, gunning the engine and letting the custom-built engine roar to life. She let it hum like a predatory cat, glancing sidelong at Angie to gauge her reaction before revving her foot against the gas, making the beast under the hood roar. The girl’s eyes lit up like saucers, going from Heather to the hood of the car as if she could see through the sheet of metal of the hood to take in the engine underneath. Heather couldn’t stop herself from grinning, appreciating she had found a budding young gear-head out in the middle of nowhere.

They raced down the deserted street toward the busted intersection, kicking up great clouds of dust in their wake, slowing to a crawl beneath the traffic light and swinging left. Heather threw the shift about between them, flexing her feet expertly against the pedals, unable to stop herself from showing off a bit of her driving skills.

She couldn’t help but notice that as they rumbled past the filling station at the street corner, Angie hunkered down a little in her seat, until just the top of her sand-colored head could barely be seen over the door. Heather glanced back at the empty garage, flipping her sunglasses back down before asking, “I guess your dad wouldn’t approve of you getting into cars with strangers?”

Angie twisted around in her seat to stare back the way they had come, peeking over the top of the headrest. The dry wind was making her threadbare dress whip all around the car. “He told me to stay around the shop where he could see me until he finished up tonight.”

“Should I take you back then?” Heather felt a creeping feeling of doubt and the first real notion of fear. Had she technically kidnapped a kid? Suddenly she was feeling more than a bit like Chester the Child Molester and spied a good empty lot up ahead where they could turn around.

“I don’t think he’s even awake,” she said, turning back around to sit back heavily in the seat. “There really isn’t much work to do at the shop so mostly he just sits around, plays darts with Tommy Elder and drinks beer. That car, the one that’s hoisted up like that in the garage? It’s been there forever now, ain’t no parts for it around here so it’s on order. In the meantime, nothing to do but…” She shrugged, looking at Heather for the first time since they passed the place. “I really like your car. It’s a ’77, right?”

“You got a good eye,” she answered with a nod, impressed and not bothering to hide it.

“My dad taught me a lot about cars,” Angie answered without being asked. “I can even drive some.”

“You can drive?”

“You want me to show you?” A mischievous smile crossed her mouth, reached her eyes and lit them up. Heather was smiling now too.

“Not a chance.”

“How come? The only cop in town is back at my dad’s station, playing darts and drunk as a skunk.”

“There isn’t much here, eh?” Heather asked, changing the subject.

Angie didn’t press the matter and shook her head. “More’n you’d expect.”

“I saw a McDonald’s sign coming into town. Where is that?”

Angie chuckled at the question. “That place shut up before I was even born.”

Heather should have expected this but couldn’t help but feel a little crestfallen. “So much for that Big Mac Attack. Is the diner the only place to eat around here?”

Angie nodded her head, crossing her ankles over the low dash. The bottoms of her feet were stained a rich coffee-color. “Yeah, if you want anything else, it’s a pretty long drive to the next town over, ‘least two hours. Mostly though we get food from the grocery store. They have a freezer up front with tons of ice cream. It’s just up here.” She pointed lazily with one hand before tucking it behind her head, the picture of comfort.

“Make yourself at home, I guess,” Heather teased.

“Oh, I am.”

They pulled into the parking lot beside the rusted-out husk of an Impala. Heather reached into her front pocket and produced a crisp, new five-dollar bill and handed it over to Angie. “Grab me one too, huh?” Angie skipped up to the front door, her skirt lifting gently with each lift of her knee and threw the door open and vanished inside. The bell chime announcing her entry was a brass contraption tied to the inside handle. Through the wide glass windows of the front of the store, she spied Angie already leering over the top of the freezer near the register, raising up onto tip toe and grinning hungrily down at the pile of treats.

She laughed at something Heather couldn’t hear and slid the screen aside, fishing out two large pops wrapped in paper. A moment later, she reappeared at the door, jogged down the steps toward the car, and hopped in over the top without bothering to open the door. She handed one of the two pops in her hand over. It had a cartoon character on the front, Spongebob Squarepants. Heather wondered if the large, blue eyes were gumballs like the ones she got from the ice cream trucks when she was Angie’s age.

Angie unwrapped her ice cream (another cartoon character but from a show Heather didn’t recognize) and placed it between her lips unable to keep herself from humming in delight.

They were back on the road again a moment later, racing down the narrow streets of Oasis with no new destination in mind, just enjoying the sensation of the wind in their hair and the ice cream melting against their lips.

“The mountains are on fire,” Angie pointed up ahead and indeed, a trick of the light of the setting sun made it seem like the range of mountains before them was ablaze. “That’s what my dad says all the time. There’s a lake out there somewhere too, s’what keeps the Oasis from burning up like all the other towns out here. Something about the wind coming off the water and down the mountains…” she trailed off. “Anyway, that’s what keeps this place alive.”

“Just barely,” Heather said before she could stop herself.

Angie laughed at that, smearing a bit of the treat across her cheek. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It ain’t so bad though. It’s a friendly place with nice folks, don’t have to lock your doors at night like you do in the big city. Everyone knows everyone.”

“Is that something else your dad says?” Heather ribbed.

Angie blushed a little and smiled, nodding. “Yeah…pretty often, too. Especially when I tell him I’m bored and that there’s nothin’ to do!”

“Is that pretty often? Being bored with nothing to do?”

Angie made a face, taking another lick of her ice cream. Her tongue was long and pink, with a purple streak running down the middle from the treat. “Only sometimes. When Mary Rose isn’t tied up with her piano lessons at the church or Billy Ross can come out and…” she paused, hesitating on the word ‘Play’ before switching it to “…hang out. Missy Tat and Denny are usually around but they had chores to do, so I just been bored all day by myself.” She looked over, smiling through ice cream stained lips. “That’s when I noticed this car of yours and had to get a good look. I know everyone’s car in town, my dad’s fixed ‘em all for some thing or another over the years. No one in Oasis has a car like THIS. So I knew you were new.”

“At what point did you think about stealing change from my seats?” Heather teased but Angie looked hurt for a moment, looking away.

“I hope you don’t think too bad of me. I wouldn’t have done it, I don’t think. I feel awful sorry about it.”

Heather reached over to ruffle the girls head good-naturedly. Angie’s hair was thick, soft and flecked with coarse grains of sand. It was meant as a gesture of affection but it drew a frown across the child’s face.

“Why are grown-ups always trying to pat me on the damn head?”

Heather didn’t know if it was the huff in her voice or the liberal use of a swear, but it made her laugh all the same. It sounded strangely natural, and it was clear that Angie was no stranger to cussing and likely wasn’t reprimanded for it too often.

“Sorry, guess it’s because you’re so cute. We can’t help it.”

“People say that a lot, too,” Angie said in her wiser than her year’s voice.

They raced past the old, blown out husk of what was once the McDonald’s, and Heather looked longingly back at it through the rearview mirror. The arches had faded to a bone-white but were still standing.

Before she knew it, Heather was glimpsing another worn sign bidding them farewell as they were leaving Oasis, wishing them safe travels and a speedy return. “There really isn’t much more to see,” Angie commented. “This road goes all the way into California if you follow it long enough but there isn’t anything to look at between here and there but more sand.”

The fire on the mountains was spreading down into the valley, igniting the dunes into pyres and the scattered trees and cactus stalks to torches. She wondered if the town would look ablaze on their return trip?

She glanced over at her impromptu passenger, got a twinge of the anxiety from before, fretting if she had technically kidnapped this girl and perhaps now her father was scrambling about their tiny town with Oasis’ single police officer in a panic. Heather turned her head, opening her mouth to shout over the blowing wind and sound of the engine in order to be heard but paused at the sight of Angie’s slender legs.

The dress had snaked its way up her hips, revealing flesh sun-dyed the same dark tone as the rest of her. Heather’s breath hitched again and a heat spread out on her face that had nothing to do with the desert wind. She forced herself to look away but the glimpse had left her chest tight, as if her ribs were constricting around her heart. Heather tightened her grip on the wheel, hoping more to get a firmer grasp on the situation rather than the car rocketing more than sixty down a barren stretch of highway. She chanced another look, longer this time, unable to help herself. The tender area where the girls legs met her hips was visible, scarlet in the rapidly fading light, encircled by the leg-hole of her tiny panties, looking just as old and worn out as the dress blowing around them.

Heather took a shaky breath, willing her nerves to calm down while she searched her mind for an explanation for what was happening. Heather had always jokingly referred to herself as a sexual deviant but…no, there was no way there was any sort of real….she was lost in her reasoning for a time, lapsing into silence while she tried and failed to sort it out.

She slowed the car to a crawl and nosed it to the shoulder of the road. In the rearview mirror, the town was a speck of yellow light far, far in the distance. Heather looked over at Angie who was gazing over the passenger door, looking completely comfortable for someone so young to be literal miles from home with a complete stranger. All at once, Heather recalled long school assembly meetings from grade school, where a few local police officers would gather all the students together in the cafeteria or auditorium to warn them all about ‘stranger danger’.

Heather whipped the wheel around in a tight circle motion, preparing to head back the way they had come. They had probably already gone too far, been gone too long, and Angie was likely going to be in serious trouble but…

Instead of going back down the highway she rolled to the opposite shoulder and punched the car into neutral and set the parking brake, but didn’t cut the engine. They idled for a beat before Angie turned around to face Heather. “Why are we stopped?” The ice cream was long gone but she was still sucking idly on the stick. Her lips were lightly stained a dark purple, as if she was wearing lipstick. Her question did not show any sign of fear or concern, and that filled Heather with relief for some reason.

“Angie,” she began slowly, through a dry mouth. “I need to touch you.” She quieted almost at once, heart thundering like a jackhammer once the words were out. It hadn’t been a request, but a statement, as casual as if she had said she was getting a drink of water to quench her thirst. “You don’t have to do anything, just sit quiet and still while I do it.” Her heart was beating faster with each word until she was certain it would cause a heart attack. Heather unbuckled her own seatbelt with trembling fingers and shifted in her seat to face Angie beside her. The girl still did not appear anxious or frightened, but there was definitely something playing across her young features. Was it more curiosity? Or was that just Heather trying to ease her own conscience for what she was about to do…

She reached for Angie, sliding the palm of her hand across her middle to encircle her fingers around the girls ribs. The fabric wasn’t as soft as it looked and Heather tugged it higher, bunching it up around Angie’s middle to reveal her body. Her belly was smooth, warm beneath her hand, almost hot and slightly damp with a sheen of sweat. Heather drew in a shaky breath, scooting across the middle of the bench to sit closer to the girl, trembling so bad her fingers delayed in obeying her whims. They snaked drunkenly higher to caress Angie’s narrow chest, searching for a nipple but missing it. Her clumsy fingers became desperate, groping all around (for that was the only word that could best describe Heather’s lewd exploration) until they found the little dots of flesh and she gasped aloud. Never had she been so aroused, so wanton for someone, man or woman. Yet the simple sensation of the soft, tender flesh of this girl’s nipple rolling between her thumb and index finger had left her quivering. Heather buried her face in the nape of Angie’s neck, inhaling her scent. She smelled like sweat and open air and sand and cheap discount brand shampoo. Heather’s tongue darted out to taste her, coming away salty and sweet…

Angie made no move to stop her, simply sat quietly, allowing Heather to explore her without complaint or protest. She even shifted a little in her seat, moved her hands to make the path easier without being asked. Heather gripped the girls knobby knee, slid her palm flat up the smoothness of her inner thigh but could not bring herself to reach through her panties. Instead, she caressed Angie from the outside, her breath hitching again, smoothing her finger out against the little cleft of her slit before begging away. She fell heavily back into her side of the car, breathless and sweating coldly. “Th-thank you, Angie,” she murmured, her voice sounding strange and dazed even to her.

Angie made no reply, save from looking at her with a curious expression that knit her eyebrows together. The quiet grew longer, until it was palpable but Heather could not think of anything else to say, any sort of explanation for her behavior. It all had just been a surge of attraction, an animal magnetism that compelled her to act.

She buckled her seatbelt again and shifted the car back into gear, rolling along the gravel until they were on the highway again, racing toward town and pushing 90.

Continue on to Chapter 3