AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is an entry into the 2013 Summer Lovin' Story Contest. Please enjoy.
"Well... fuck!"
I surveyed the damage in front of me. It was a bright, warm July morning, in the midst of what was already a very hot summer. I was standing in one of the busiest intersections of the city. The day started like every other normal work day; showering and shaving, eating breakfast, dressing in a nice suit and driving to work like I always do. Only a few minutes ago, I was waiting to turn left at this intersection, just like I always do.
Except today, some jagoff decided he`d yak on his cellphone and not pay attention to the road. With other cars to the right and in front of me, and the dividing median to the left of me, I had nowhere to go. I was little more than a sitting duck. This sad excuse of a human being plowed into my back bumper at a very high rate of speed. Only thanks to the advanced safety systems common to newer cars these days... and, quite frankly, the grace of the fates above... were we able to escape this accident basically unscathed.
That certainly could not be said for my Ford Mustang GT, which I had only purchased last year, and which now looked more like modern art than a badass car. The front end was somewhat crumpled in, as the impact from the crash was hard enough to start a chain reaction; even the woman at the front of the line, two cars ahead of me, had scrapes on her car. The back end was a complete wreck, folded in so far the back bumper was scraping the rear wheels. All sorts of fluids -- oil, brake, transmission, you name it -- were leaking on to the pavement.
I tried to collect myself, a more difficult task than normal. I like to consider myself an easy-going guy, but right now I wanted to ram my fist right down cellphone guy`s throat. It was bad enough that he walked away with nothing worse than damage to the front of his car (not that I normally wish harm on people, but in this case I felt I deserved to make an exception to that rule). Even worse, he STILL hadn`t stopped talking on that damned phone! Nope, he kept yakking on, non-stop, even with every one of us involved in the accident, not to mention the traffic cops, yelling at him at the top of our lungs. His cluelessness only enraged me more.
I turned away from him and fished my own Blackberry out of my pocket. I needed to call my supervisor to tell him the bad news, if for no other reason than it might keep me from seething over cellphone guy.
On the third ring, as he always did, he picked up. "Ferguson here!"
"Hey boss, it`s Matt."
"Matt, you rat bastard! How the fuck are ya?!" In his inimitable Scottish brogue, Keith Ferguson was frequently crude and hilariously profane. He's the best boss I've ever had.
"Well, I've had better mornings."
"Cheer up, sunshine! It`s a beautiful fucking day outside! Hey, you`re not caught in traffic are ya? I heard some poor cocksucker got rear-ended at Main and Smith!"
"Yeah, that's the thing, sir. I'm actually the... uh... poor cocksucker in question."
"You're shitting me, Matthew! Don't be shitting me now, son!"
"Believe me, I`d love nothing better than to not be shitting you. But, I swear, it`s the god`s honest truth."
"Jesus Murphy! You`re not hurt, are you?"
"No, thank goodness. I'm a little shaken up, but I'll be fine."
"Thank fuck, Matthew! I'd hate for my best damn worker and a good kid to boot to be laid up in a fucking hospital bed. Your nice new car must be all twisted to shit though!"
"Yeah, it`s a mess, sir."
"Well listen, son, you just take the day off. I`m sure you have a lot to go through with police reports and getting your car looked after and all that. I`ll cover for ya. And if old man Kennedy doesn`t like it, fuck him if he can`t take a joke!"
I laughed, in spite of my situation. "Thanks, sir."
"Ah stop calling me sir, ya wee git! One more thing, if you need a good garage, take it to that Williams collision shop, you know the one?"
"Yes sir... uh, Keith. I`ve seen the signs for it."
"Yeah, go there. The techs know their shit, they won`t fucking rip you off like most garages, and they have this old biddy at the counter, she`s a laugh-riot! Don`t get any ideas though Matthew, I get first dibs on her! Ah what the fuck am I saying, I don`t have to worry about you, Christ she`s old enough to be your grandma!"
I laughed out loud again. Keith never failed to crack me up. I answered, "OK, sounds good, I`ll have the tow truck driver take me there."
Cellphone guy is damn lucky, I thought after I hung up. Speaking with Keith had removed most of my desire to beat the holy hell out of him.
After seemingly endless questions from the cop taking my statement, I finally climbed into the truck as the driver worked to hook my mangled wreck to the towing apparatus. He drove in silence the twenty or so minutes it took to reach the garage and let me out by the front door while he went around to the side of the building to drop off my car.
I walked inside the modern-looking office and was immediately struck dumb. Instead of someone old enough to be my grandma behind the counter, I saw an absolutely gorgeous young woman.
She was standing up, a cordless phone crooked in her ear, flipping through a file cabinet. She was wearing a pale blue short-sleeved, impossibly tight blouse that drew my eyes to her round breasts. The blouse was buttoned just high enough not to be lewd but low enough to tease me with her cleavage. Her grey mini-skirt was very short, offering a generous view of two long, finely toned legs. Straight, dark brown hair fell gently to her shoulders, while stylish glasses helped frame her pixie-like face. Tattoos on each arm provided splashes of colour on what was otherwise creamy alabaster skin. She looked like a real-life, fuckable china doll.
Her eyes caught mine and I heard her ask the person on the other end of the phone to hold a second. She then told me "Hi, I`m sorry, I have an insurance adjustor on the other line, and I`ve been trying for DAYS to get a hold of him. Do you mind waiting just a minute or so?"
I gave her a slight smile and nod, convinced I would sound like an idiot if I opened my mouth. She thanked me before turning her attention back to the phone. She continued to speak as she moved to a different file cabinet. Facing away from me, she opened the bottom drawer and bent over. I marveled again at her legs, especially her rounded calves, muscular enough to provide shape but not so much to take away their essential femininity. Her tight skirt rode even higher up her body, and it barely contained a perfect heart-shaped ass. I decided to stand right in front of the counter so she wouldn`t have a chance to see my quickly growing erection.
A few minutes later she ended her phone call. She smiled warmly and breathed a sigh of relief. She said, "Thanks for being so patient, I really needed to get that file settled. I`m Melanie, by the way! How can I help you today?"
My tongue still felt thick and foreign in my mouth. A combination of the accident and this woman`s stunning beauty had me rattled. I managed to stammer, "Uh... hi Melanie... I'm Matt, and... well I, um, unfortunately, got in a bad accident today..."
A look of concern spread on her face and she placed her hand on mine. My breath caught in my mouth as her touch sent a shiver of excitement through my body. "I`m so sorry to hear that!" she said. "You look shaken up by it. Are you sure you`re all right?"
I took a deep breath, trying to gain my composure and prove to both of us that I was OK. "Yes, I`m fine Melanie. Thank you for your concern. My car is pretty messed up, though, as you can probably imagine."
