Once Bitten, Twice Shy

Metal Thrashing Mad

  The speed limit through most of Hawkins was 35 MPH. Eddie knew this, and yet here he was with his odometer reading 65. He rocketed past the high school. A few dozen cars were there, the football stadium lights were on, and he couldn't care less. Friday nights were so boring during football season. Girls wanted to go drool over guys, guys wanted to go chase skirts. Nobody wanted to get drunk and jam.

  His thin, strong fingers slid into the pocket of his leather jacket. With his other hand, Eddie grabbed the cigarette from behind his ear and puckered around it. From out of his pocket, he pulled a lighter. It clicked, but no flame. He shook it around. He teetered it back and forth. After several tries, he surrendered. There was a gas station a few miles up. Maybe he could bum a light until he could get home and refill his. Maybe he could find someone to talk to about something other than school and sports.

  The sides of his old van trembled as he pushed it to its limits. He knew he wasn't going to get in trouble. Everyone, even traffic cops, went to the football games at Hawkins. He was now flying around 80 MPH when he remembered he was supposed to stop for a light. He made a U-turn, still sure nobody was out watching the roads. He maintained a legal speed so he could pull into the gas station without running over anyone.

  He finished off the bottle of beer he had been holding between his legs. He threw the empty bottle out the window as he pulled into the gas station. There was only one car in the lot. Eddie was a regular at this gas station, bartering pills for cartons of cigarettes and buying beer underage in exchange for stocking the cooler. He had never seen this car before.

  Metal clanked against metal as his wallet chain smacked into the door frame. Eddie was drunk. He wasn't hammered, but he definitely had a warm buzz. "Fuck," he whispered to himself, "learn to walk, dude." He opened the door. He shuffled in, one hand in his pocket and the other reaching out to steady himself.

  "Newman?!", he shouted. Newman was the owner of this gas station, and the only person allowed to run the store at night. He was an old fishing buddy of Eddie's uncle Wayne. He had watched Eddie grow from a scrawny, sheepish kid with a buzz cut into a scrawny, long-haired loud mouth. Nobody answered back. "Cooler," he said, heading towards the door marked STAFF ONLY.

  The heavy door let out a smack noise as it opened, the heat from the store now filled with cold fog. "New-"a hand shot over Eddie's mouth. It smelled like cigarettes and Love's Baby Soft. Her eyes met his as she gestured towards the gun in the pocket of her jacket. "You trying to rob me, kid?" She was shaking. Eddie mumbled, "No ma'am." His lips meeting her soft palm gave him an unexpected boner. He moved to cover himself, and she jumped back, cocking the pistol.

  Eddie's hands flew up. "Look, lady, my name is Eddie Munson and you can call Newman right now and he will tell you I'm no trouble-"he was cut off by a cackling laugh. Still giggling, even snorting, she removed the magazine and peered down to ensure that last bullet fell out into her palm. Eddie just stared in silence. Something about a lady with a gun was turning him on. He waited as she continued catching her breath through bursts of laughter. "Munson," she nodded, "that makes sense now. Newman hired me to watch the store on Friday nights because his grandson plays football and he wanted to start attending games." Eddie smiled and nodded. "Good for him".

  "Newman told me to expect you. Sorry for freaking out. You can't be alone in a gas station at night with tits." Eddie couldn't stop himself from staring at them now. She did have tits. Big ones.

  She lifted two gallons of milk, slamming them into their slot in the display. Eddie picked up two more and repeated the same behind her. She let out an annoyed sigh and shook her head. "Hey kid, you don't need to help. I want to earn my keep. Newman is really helping me out here and I don't want him to think I can't pull my weight. I'm going to take a smoke break, anyway, did you come in to get more beer?" Eddie stared at her and asked, "more?"

  She ran her fingers through her hair and flipped it over to the other side it her head as she reached to push open the freezer door. "You smell like you've at least polished off a six-pack " she winked. Her arm swung out in a welcoming gesture, ushering Eddie back into the stuffy little gas station. "Really?", he asked, covering his mouth to smell his own breath. He shrugged, unable to smell anything. "No," Eddie said. "I really just need to bum a lighter." She pulled a cigarette from the pack in her jeans and walked outside.

  Eddie slid his leather jacket off and tossed it onto the hood of his van. As he placed his cigarette between his lips, she held up her lighter to him. Their eyes met across the flame and Eddie's boner grew. He puffed until his cigarette was lit and tried to look away. Her long hair looked so soft. He wanted to pull it while he filled her up from behind. He wanted to hear how she sounded as he bit into her soft neck. He wanted to see those eyes widen then slam shut as she reached orgasm.

"Munson?", she snapped two fingers in front of his face. "Do I have a stain on my shirt or something?" She looked down and swatted at her top. He was mesmerized by the bounce of her breasts as she wiggled around to see. "Hello?" She was getting irritated. And worried. "Eddie are you okay?", she asked, now placing her hands on his cheeks. Their eyes met again. He throbbed against his jeans.

  "Thanks for the light" he smiled. He climbed into the van and opened another beer. He flew out of the parking lot, sweating from the want—need, growing in his crotch. His leather jacket slid off the hood of the van and nearly knocked her over. She shook her head and tried to get him to come back for it, but he ripped out of the parking lot blasting Black Sabbath and didn't hear.