First Time Lucky(6)

By: Chance Carter

I sagged back onto the bed and gulped down a few mouthfuls of air. The world came back into focus, and I realized that I’d just masturbated to the thought of my dad’s employee. How filthy was I?

I giggled and let my eyes fall closed.

Chapter 3


Randall’s shop was my refuge. There wasn’t anything wrong with my house per se, but home was a long way away, and there was nowhere else in this town where I felt comfortable. It took me up to an hour to drive out to my mom’s little trailer in the sticks, depending on traffic, and once I was out there I was stuck. Nothing to do, nothing to see. Randall’s was the perfect in-between—a place where I could be myself in peace without having to stare at an old as dirt TV set until it was time to go to sleep.

The money helped too, of course. And it was a place I could go to and fix up my bike whenever I needed to, which was a lot. My ’85 Honda Rebel was a good runner, but it was old. Old things fall apart. Having a garage I could putter in at my leisure was the best part of the job. Well, almost the best part.

I was crouched over a drop sheet of tools when Dallas’s sexy figure strode through the shop doors. She didn’t spend a lot of time here, but I saw her now and then. It was always a treat when she stopped in, even if I only got to see a flash of her hair as she walked past the double doors and to her dad’s office.

She looked particularly tasty today, her hair tied up in a high ponytail, wearing a pair of tight blue jeans and a plaid shirt buttoned just below her neck. The outfit would have looked plain on anybody else, but Dallas wore it almost sinfully. Her legs were long and lean, but her hips were full, and her ass was round. Since she’d first turned from a skinny kid into a luscious woman, she’d been my preferred body type.

“Hey Shane,” she said, smiling lightly. “Have you seen my dad?”

I hadn’t talked to Dallas since the day I nearly asked her to prom, and I didn’t have any intentions of trying again. It backfired in my face, and I knew when to step back. She was too good for me, always would be.

I answered her question as succinctly as possible.

“He went out about an hour ago.”

Dallas’s face fell, and she drew her bottom lip into her mouth to chew on it. I couldn’t help but stare, cock hardening uncomfortably in my pants. How badly I wanted to nibble on those cherry pink lips.

“Do you know when he’s going to be back?” she asked, stepping further into the room.

I wiped my hands on my pants and stood up, shaking my head. “He didn’t say where he was going.” Noticing the obvious distress on her face, I asked, “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Uh...” Dallas scratched her head and gave me a sheepish smile. “Do you know anything about pedal bikes?”

“Pedal bikes?” I cocked a brow.


“I know lots about pedal bikes. Is there any specific piece of knowledge you’re looking for, or should I start just rattling off facts?”

Dallas laughed and stepped closer, running her hand absently over the top of the workbench. “My chain came off. I think it might be broken so I was hoping to get my dad to come have a look at it for me.”

She hit me with the full force of those baby blues, and I knew she could ask the world of me and I’d find a way to give it to her. A loose bike chain? Hell, I could do that for her with both my eyes shut and my hands behind my back.

“Sure, I’ll have a look,” I said. “Direct me to the patient.”

Dallas chuckled, and I followed her outside, where she’d leaned her bike up against the side of the building. As she said, the chain was hanging loose. As expected, it would be an easy fix.

“You really don’t know anything about bikes, huh?” I asked, squatting down to start fiddling with it.

Dallas squatted down beside me and watched my hands. “I don’t. I’m totally useless.”

“That’s surprising. I would’ve thought your dad would be all about teaching you the family business.”

She snorted. “Family business my ass. I’ve got no desire to learn anything about the shop. Poor Dad. Should’ve had a boy.”

I put the chain back into place and had a check around to make sure there weren’t any other problems. Satisfied, I sat back and waved toward the bike.

“All done.”

“Awesome!” Dallas beamed, her face splitting open with sunbeams. “You’re a top rate mechanic.”

“I don’t know about that,” I said with a wry grin. “This was an easy fix. A very easy fix. Not that I mind or anything, but I can’t take any credit.”