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Rated: GC · Short Story · Erotica · #1710116
Frank sells the '39 to an unexpected client.
The Car Sale

We hurried back over to the shop and pulled into the parking lot. Waiting for us was a Mercedes Limo…with the windows down.

“Look!” Exclaimed Jake, its ‘Mr. Hard-0n’ and a new Bunny Girl.”

The Chauffer hustled out and opened the door. Mr. Hardin got out brushing cigar ashes off his suit. I walked over as Jake went to open up the shop. An attractive girl smiled out through the window. She was wearing a collar like the waitress had worn several nights ago. It was set in sparkling stones and looked expensive.. The man introduced himself.

“I’m Manny Hardin…are you Frank Marcetti?”

“Yes, do we know each other?”

“I don’t think so… are you related to the New York Marcetties?”

“Distantly…my father moved to Chicago over twenty years ago…then settled here.”

“What did he do?”

“He was an undertaker…started a funeral home here in town.”

“That is a real calling, an art form is what it is.”

“How did you find out about Classic Customs?”

“My brother showed me an example of your work. We were reading Hot Rod Magazine last month and drooling over the ’39 Chevrolet you built…Then we started reading some of your articles. We were impressed...very impressed.”

“There's another ‘39 we're just finishing up inside….so you like the model?”

"Do I ever," he replied rubbing his hands in anticipation.

I gestured inside.

He didn't see it at first, sitting in the corner.

“My grandfather had one and used to take Mario and I to Green Lake every summer. We loved that car…so did the girls… if you get the drift…”

“I think I know what you’re referring to.”

Then he saw the Chevy and stopped abruptly. I opened the rear door.

“We did many a skirt in a sled just like this one….Tried it out yet?“ he asked, pointing to the plush rear seat.

“My girlfriend likes the leather.” I replied. Unexpectedly the recollection of last night flashed back, recalling the urgency of Beth's need.... "Hurry Frank, please hurry."

He read my expression. “You dog! What woman can resist a little space and corinthian leather…Warms the anti-freeze and lubes their insatiable itch." Jake chucked and Manny slapped his back. "I can see this one knows what I 'm talking about."

I smiled unconvincingly.

"I remember this one girl we used to do…had what I call ‘Designer Titties.’ Like those tomatoes you see in Wall-Mart…more elongated than round… you know what I’m talking about?”

I nodded politely.

“Her family had the cottege next door. We coaxed her into the back seat one night and got her to hike it up. Could she skip rope....did the Red Hots 'til our noodles drooped.”

The vision of Beth continued. Her yawning sex, and eager fingers.

"Yeah, Manny continued, nothing gets a cunt lathered like a big back seat.

I looked away trying to shake the recollection... Beth clawing, her fingernails in my shoulders.

Manny's voice continued from afar. In slow motion he leaned in, feeling the texture of the upholstery. "This is one fine automobile."

His words brought me back…. "How did you find us?” I inquired.

“Are you kidding, if there’s one thing we’re good at it's locating people…imagine my surprise to discover you were close to where we have a business interest. Ebertowski Properties…you familiar with the name?

"I believe I've seen the sign,"

They sell high end Real Estate..”

“Just off Main Street,” I answered, my heart tightening.

“Tell me more about the ride,” he insisted, "I just can’t get enough.”

I opened the driver's side door. Manny shook his head. A second build of a particular model always turns out better than the first…this was no exception. From the chop to the glistening black paint the car was magnificent.

“My God!” He exclaimed…“This one is even better than the magazine, if you can believe that. We got in touch with the owner but he wouldn't sell. How about this one?”

“It’s not quite finished and we haven’t put it on the market…if you’re interested though, I’ll let it go for the same price I sold the last one.”

“What was that?”

“$150K.”

“I’ll take it,” he said without blinking an eye. “Mario will be delighted. When can we pick it up?”

“It’ll be ready in about two weeks.”

“Give me the call when it's done…I’ll arrange the financing and send a car hauler to pick it up…You take cash?”

“I prefer a bank draft, if that’s acceptable.”

“Sure!” he said putting his arm around my shoulder…“My brother's going to shit when I tell him… and right here in Wautoma.” We shook hands and I escorted him back out to the Limo.

“You won’t believe what I just bought Bodo,” he said gloating.

“And what was that Mr. Hardin?” inquired the chauffer, opening the door.

“A ’39 Chevy Sedan…Ever driven one?”

“Can’t say as I have Sir…that was a bit before my time.”

“Well get ready to learn, my man, get ready to learn.”

The chauffer hustled around, and got behind the wheel.

“I’ll be in touch,” said Hardin. The girl snuggled close, the window closed and the Limo sped off. As they turned the corner I wanted to jump up and down in delight….

”We're back in business Jake…I just made a sale on the ’39.”

“Does that mean I get paid this month?”

“You betcha!”

“What are you going to tell Beth?”

“Nothing…The less she knows about this the better.”


© Copyright 2010 percy goodfellow (trebor at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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