Work Text:
The Mechanic
"No. No no no. No. Goddamnit don't you fucking dare!"
Max slams the steering wheel with an open hand, as hard as she can. She barely notices the immediate stinging sensation.
As if in response, her twenty year old, battered, piece-of-shit, hand-me-down Ford makes a ghastly rattle not unlike the cough of a terminal cigarette addict, then cuts out completely.
With the last of her momentum, Max pulls over to the side of the baking hot California road, coasting to a gentle stop with a creak and the hiss of a dying engine.
For a moment, Max stares blankly forward. Then, she screams in frustration and slams the steering wheel again - this time accidentally knocking the horn, producing a loud blast that makes her jump in her seat.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me." She groans. Her car breaking down on today of all days - the day she was finally getting out on her own, out of her parents' house, moving down to L.A. and really starting her life - is literally the last thing she needs right now.
Max curses again. She wasn't even that far from her ultimate destination: a cheap little one bedroom studio apartment in Frogtown, a supposedly up and coming neighborhood populated with artisans, photographers and coffeeshops - three of her favorite things in life. It was meant to be the perfect place for her to get her foot in the door.
And of course, her car had to die only five miles away.
Max sighs. Frustration probably isn't going to get her anywhere, so she shoves the door open, wincing a little as the Californian heat hits her, and clambers out of her car. Shielding her eyes with her hand from the blazing sun, Max digs her phone out of the pocket of her jeans, intending on looking up the closest mechanic she can find.
Unfortunately, just like her poor Ford, her phone is dead.
Max fights back an almost overpowering urge to yeet her phone into the road. She manages, barely, and takes a breath in an effort to center herself.
"Okay. Your phone is dead, your car is fucked, and you still need to get all your stuff to your apartment. What do you do?" Max asks herself. "Think, Caulfield. Think."
Recalling a sign for a gas station she passed about a mile back, Max reasons it would probably be a decent idea to go there, and ask for assistance. Maybe they would know a local mechanic or something.
Her mind made up, Max leans back into her car, grabs a half-full bottle of water and her keys. She locks up, making sure everything is secure as possible, and begins walking up the side of the road, heading towards the gas station.
The glaring sun doesn't exactly help, but it still doesn't take her long too long to make her way over to the gas station - albeit it much sweatier than she would have been had her car not picked the most inconvenient moment to crap out on her.
As she enters the attached store, the clerk - a short young man in his mid twenties with a buzz cut, neat goatee, impressively dark eyebrows and an abundance of tattoos - looks up at her as she approaches the counter.
"What can I do you for?" He says, idly chewing a piece of gum.
"Hi. I'm kinda in a jam." Max begins to explain. "My ride died on me about half a mile back down the road, and I was wondering if you could help me out, like if there's a garage anywhere near?"
"You're in luck." He grins. "There's a place like, a five minute ride away."
"Oh." Max perks up a little. "That's awesome, thanks. Can you point me in the right direction?"
"I'll do one better." He says. "Lemme offer you a ride."
"Oh, that's kind of you but I can probably-"
"Don't sweat it." He says, fishing a set of keys out of his flannel shirt. "Literally, you look wiped. It's dead here anyway, and my car at least has AC."
"Air-con does sound good." Max finds herself agreeing.
"That sounds like a yes to me." He smiles. "Hey Steve!" He yells into the back.
"Yeah?" Steve's voice comes back.
"Watch the store, I gotta help a girl out."
A wolf whistle sounds from the general direction of Steve.
"Shut the fuck up, Steve!" The clerk yells back. "C'mon." He jerks his head in the general direction of outside. "My truck's out back."
Minutes later, Max is gratefully cooling off in said truck as it makes its way down the blistering LA streets.
"Thanks again." Max says, fanning herself with the front of her shirt.
"No worries, my dude." The clerk says. "I'm Al, by the way." He extends a hand in greeting.
She shakes it.
"Max."
"So how'd your ride break down?"
Max sighs a long, exasperated sigh. "I don't even know. It just packed up, right when I needed it most."
Al nods, sage-like. "Sod's law, ain't it?"
"Yup. Breaking down on the day I move out to L.A definitely qualifies."
Al whistles. "Ouch. The universe definitely feels like it's got a hate-boner for you."
Max half laughs, half sighs. "It's beginning to feel that way."
"Well, hopefully shit's gonna get a little better for ya. You never know what's around the corner, y'know?"
Max finds herself nodding. "True."
Al chuckles. "Well, in this case, I do know what's around the corner."
"What's that?"
Al takes a sharp left, and nods in the direction of their new heading. "The salvation for your transport woes. Mechanic's just here."
"Thanks again!" Max calls.
As he pulls out of the small parking bay, Al sticks a hand out of the window, and gives Max a thumbs up, before disappearing back down the road.
Max turns, and shades her eyes with the flat of her hand in order to read the battered, peeling shop sign hanging over an equally distressed door.
"Priceless Mechanics, huh?" She says to herself.
It wasn't a large operation, judging from the space visible through a nearby window only having enough room for one car inside. The entire place also reeks of engine oil, brake fluid, lubricant and other indecipherable but unmistakable automobile-based smells.
Max wrinkles her nose, but walks through the door anyway.
"Hello?" She calls out when there's no one immediately visible inside.
No answer.
Max hesitates for a minute or so, unsure of what to do, but eventually decides on making her way further into the garage.
"Hello?" She says again as she wanders onto the main floor.
This time, someone answers.
"Be right with you!" a woman's voice comes from somewhere in the back.
"OK!" Max says back, internally checking herself for being surprised it was a female voice that answered, not a man. For all her progressive, feminist views - as well as being a gay woman - some elements of institutionalised patriarchy were hard to shake, her perception of mechanics being mostly male definitely included among those elements.
However, whatever train of thought she's heading down is abruptly derailed by the opening of a door marked 'staff only', and the sudden emergence of the mechanic.
When Max sees her, she has to consciously tell herself not to let her jaw drop.
If real life had been a movie, this would have been the part where the bombshell-du-jour was introduced in slow motion, most likely with gratuitous camera shots and set to something like Justin Timberlake's mid-noughties hit Sexyback .
Or at least, that's how Max's brain would remember it in the future.
In place of an expensive film camera, Max's eyes do the job, rapidly sweeping up and down the mechanic's body, taking in every little detail she can.
Ohh mama. Max thinks.
She's wearing blue denim coveralls, straps loosely thrown over well-defined shoulders. Underneath the coveralls is what was once a white crop-top, now covered in various stains and oil smudges. It barely comes down to the top of her ribs, exposing a large, tantalising section of toned midriff. Grease and oil streaks cover her arms, but that doesn't stop a vivid sleeve of red and green flowers, blue butterflies and a strikingly detailed skull from being the centre of attention. As she closes the door, it shifts in the light, betraying a light sheen of sweat on her skin.
Max physically swallows.
As the vision in denim nears her, the mechanic runs a hand through vivid blue hair, shaved on one side. For Max, it's the cherry - or should that be blueberry - on top of the most delicious cake she's ever seen.
Oh dear fuck I'm too gay for this. Her internal monologue laments.
"Hi, what can I do you for?" The mechanic says.
Do me. That's what you can do.
"Car." Max blurts out. "Broken."
A look of concern flashes across the mechanic's face. "You okay, girl? You sure you haven't got heatstroke?"
Max shakes her head. Blinks a few times. "No, just. Sorry. It's been a long day." She says, finally finding her words. "I'm moving to L.A, and my car broke down about a mile back. I walked to a nearby gas station and asked the guy there if there was anywhere nearby that could help me out, and he brought me here."
"Oh, was it Al?"
"Yeah."
"Yeah, he's cool. I've fixed his truck a couple times. Speaking of, is your car gonna need towing?"
Max nods. "I think so?"
"Any idea what's wrong with it?"
"I don't know." Max shakes her head. "It just died."
"Hmm." The mechanic taps her chin with a chipped blue nail. "Could be the spark plug. That's pretty common. Either way, I won't know until we go pick your car up. I'll go get my truck and we'll go get it. You mind waiting out front?"
"Sure." Max agrees, already conscious that she's willing to do anything this glorious, oil covered valkyrie of a woman tells her to.
"Thanks." The mechanic is already walking back through the door. "Won't be a minute."
"Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck." Max rapidly spits when she's back out in front of the garage. Of all the things to happen today, developing an instant crush, thirst, lust - whatever - for a mechanic who had no damn right being that attractive had not been something she had counted on happening.
She's still stuck in her own head when the mechanic rolls around in a beat up old truck, with a trailer attached to the back.
"Hop in." She says, patting the seat next to her.
Max obeys, immediately aware of how close they're sat. Unconsciously, she sniffs, and inhales a heady mix of garage smell and natural musk. It doesn't help. In fact, it makes Max's already-firmly-entrenched attraction to this woman even worse.
It's almost a relief when the mechanic blasts the AC, and also rolls down the window.
"So," She says over the noise of both the fan and the traffic through the open window, "What's your name?"
"Max. Caulfield." She answers. "You?"
"Chloe Price." Chloe smiles at her. "Is Max short for anything?"
"Maxine. But no one calls me that. Always Max, never Maxine."
"Alright, Max. Good to meet you." Chloe turns the corner, heading back down towards the gas station. "You mentioned you're moving here, right? Where you comin' from?"
"Arcadia Bay, in Oregon."
"Oregon, huh. That's quite a drive. What'cha moving all the way down here for?" Chloe asks.
"I'm a photographer." Max explains. "I got offered a contract shooting models at an agency, and I couldn't pass the chance up. So, one short apartment hunt later, here I am."
"Modeling agency, huh?" Chloe says, looking thoughtful. "One of my friends is an aspiring model. Maybe I should put you in contact with her."
"Maybe." Max replies.
I'd love it if you modeled for me…
Silence ensues. Chloe doesn't appear to mind, occupied as she is with driving.
For Max, the silence is the most obvious thing in the world. She's torn between making small talk, just to fill the quiet between them, and worrying she'll say the wrong thing or make an ass out of herself.
Thankfully, the journey concludes before the struggle of indecision threatens to overwhelm her.
"Is that your car?" Chloe asks, pointing up the road.
"Yeah." Max nods.
"Alright, I'll take a quick look, then load her up."
Chloe turns into a side street, makes a quick U-turn, then parks up in front of Max's car. She hops out of the truck, followed by Max.
"Can you pop the hood for me?"
"Sure." Max opens the driver-side door, trying not to think of hood-popping innuendos, and reaches into the side of the footwell, searching for the appropriate lever. Once she finds it, she gives it a quick pull, hearing a clunk as the hood is released. Through the windscreen, Chloe gives her a quick thumbs up, and then ducks under the hood, disappearing from view.
Max exits the car, hoping that it'll be a quick fix, and walks the two or three paces around to the front.
She immediately wishes she hadn't.
Chloe is bent over the hood, her head deep in the innards of the car. Unfortunately for Max, this has a dual effect of pushing her ass into the air, and extending her torso, exposing even more of her midriff.
" Wowser ." She accidentally says.
"What was that?" Chloe asks from within the car.
Oh shit, did I say that out loud?! Max immediately panics, and scrambles to come up with an excuse.
"Uh, I said, 'wow it's hot'." She says, internally cringing. "Hot as in, today. The weather." She continues, and adds a laugh she hopes sounds nonchalant.
Fortunately, Chloe doesn't seem to notice. "Yeah, it's a scorcher." She answers. "I've been, like, bathed in sweat all day."
Not. Helping.
"So, uh," Max says, hastily changing the subject, "Anything obviously wrong?"
"Not at first glance." Chloe says, closing the hood. "Afraid it's a definite shop job."
"Urgh. That sucks." Max laments.
"It does, but, I'll give you a discount seeing as you're new in town. How's that sound?"
"That's hella generous, seriously." Max says. "Thanks."
"Hey, no worries." Chloe grins. "Now let's get this thing loaded up. I wanna find out if it's an overnight job as soon as possible."
"Oh." Max hasn't even considered that. "What do I do if it is? My new place is still a couple of miles away."
"Tell you what, if it is, I'll give you a ride to your place, and if everything goes to shit, you can crash at mine for the night." Chloe offers. "I live above the shop." She explains.
"Again, that'd be super appreciated. Thanks so much." Max says, as earnestly as she can. "I mean, you're being incredibly helpful to someone you literally just met." She points out.
Chloe shrugs, tucking a stray cerulean lock over her ear. "I like helping people, and I can tell you need it." She explains. "Plus, you're kinda adorable in that country gal kind of way."
" Country gal?" Max protests. "I know I said I'm from Oregon but that doesn't mean I live out in the sticks."
"I'm kidding, dude. Though seriously, to people from L.A, everywhere else is 'out in the sticks', as you put it."
"That sounds kinda elitist." Max points out.
"Welcome to Hollywood." Chloe grins. "You better, like, practice your L.A drawl?" She says, putting on an outrageously fake valley girl voice.
"That," Max says, "Was terrible."
"God, I know." Chloe laughs. "Could barely keep a straight face. Now, let's get your shit loaded up. I wanna find out what's wrong with this bitch before rush hour, that way if you need a ride we won't be stuck in my truck, in this swamp-ass weather for too long."
"Sounds good to me." Max agrees. Truth be told, being trapped in a truck with Chloe for an extended period of time was probably her worst nightmare right now.
"Yup, it's gonna be an overnight thing." Chloe declares.
Max looks up from her phone, which Chloe has generously let her charge via a wall socket. "That bad?"
"Well yes, but also no." Chloe says.
Max gives her a confused look.
"I was right in that it was the spark plug." Chloe explains. "Which isn't a massive fix. In fact, I have a few lying around. But it can take like an hour to install, and that'll put us in rush hour. And lemme tell you, L.A traffic is a total bitch. So, I'll give you a ride, fix your shit, and bring your car back tomorrow morning."
"That works for me. Let me grab enough stuff to last overnight first."
"Good idea. Wouldn't want you to just be sat in an empty apartment with literally the clothes on your back." Chloe agrees.
"Well, not quite empty. There's furniture."
Chloe laughs "Yeah sure, 'I'm here on my own with none of my possessions but at least there's a coffee table'."
"Do you take the piss out of all your customers?" Max asks.
"Only the ones I like." Chloe winks.
Max's stomach flips. 'Like' could mean anything, which is precisely the problem: she didn't know what Chloe meant in context.
"A-anyway," She stammers, "We should get going."
"Tru dat." Chloe agrees.
Max grabs what she thinks she'll need - toiletries, a change of clothes, a towel, her laptop, and both her Polaroid and DSLR cameras - and stuffs everything into a spare hold-all she brought, just in case.
Chloe raises an eyebrow at the cameras, which Max catches. "Always take the shot." She says, by way of explanation.
Chloe replies with a shrug. "Makes sense, I think. Then again I know pretty much nothing about photography."
"Maybe I could teach you sometime?" Max offers before she realises what she's saying and becoming instantly mortified.
"Well, I'm always open to trying new things." Chloe smiles at her, causing Max's imagination to run riot. Did Chloe choose those words deliberately or was Max just seeing implications that weren't there, any and all subtext caused by her rampantly gay - and seemingly eternally horny - brain. Hell, she doesn't even know if Chloe likes women, let alone if the mechanic is flirting with her.
"Shall we?" She hears Chloe say, interrupting her internal debate. She looks over to where Chloe is holding the door of her truck open, gesturing to the passenger seat.
"Sure." Max hops in, and a minute later, they're on their way.
Fortunately, they manage to just about beat the notorious L.A traffic, arriving at Max's new apartment just as the roads begin to fill with commuters.
"You gonna be okay?" Max ventures when she's got her stuff unloaded. "You're gonna get stuck in traffic on the way back because of me."
Chloe waves a hand dismissively. "It'll be fine. I'm used to it." She says. "Plus like I said, I like helping people. Oh, speaking of, there's a Chinese takeout, Beifong's, around here that's hella good."
"You read my mind." Max grins. "I was just about to ask if you knew anywhere I could order food."
"Seriously dude, Beifong's. They have killer dumplings."
"Noted." Max nods in thanks. "I'm gonna-" She gestures towards the apartment.
"Right. You go get yourself settled. I'll be by in the morning with your car." Chloe says. She turns, and hops back in her truck. "See you tomorrow!" She calls out the window.
Max gives a hesitant wave, then watches Chloe drive off, punk rock blaring out of the window. Then, once Chloe is gone, Max retrieves the key left for her by the landlord - which involves a little bit of creative balancing to get it out of where it's been left in a hanging plant pot - and enters the apartment.
It's a relatively small affair - one bedroom with an adjoining bathroom, a simple kitchen and a living room - but it's enough to suit her needs. The decoration is threadbare, but Max doesn't mind. If anything, it's just more space to fill with Polaroids.
She throws herself down on the couch, silently thanking herself for going for an apartment with basic furnishings, and fishes out her phone. Five minutes later, her first order to Beifong's is complete. Naturally, she chooses dumplings.
Max turns her head sideways, and briefly studies the living room. A dark, stained wood coffee table catches her eye. Max raises an eyebrow, and her eyes flick over to the tiny pile of possessions she had brought with her.
"Heh." She giggles.
Morning light washes across L.A, vividly striking the mixture of natural fog - and the decidedly more man-made smog - giving the entire city a golden-orange glow and making it look like something out of Blade Runner.
Unfortunately, the unrelenting sunlight also pierces through Max's bedroom window, hitting her directly in the eye.
"Fuck off." She mumbles.
The blazing ball of hydrogen in the sky undergoing perpetual nuclear fusion remains indifferent.
Max glares at it, grumbles to herself, and sits up. Her first thought is that Chloe will be - presumably - bringing her car back this morning. The thought brings with it an odd mixture of excitement and nervousness.
Max sighs. Her instant attraction to the mechanic clearly hadn't worn off overnight, and in fact was rapidly turning into a solid crush.
Damn it, Max, you haven't even been here twenty four hours and you're already chasing after pretty girls, she chastises herself.
Her second thought is that, if she does have an inevitable encounter with Chloe, she should probably look - and more importantly, smell - like a moderately operational human.
Max gives herself a sniff. "You smell like a teenage boy, Caulfield." She says to herself. "You better yeet your feet into the shower."
She pauses. "'Yeet your feet'? You're lucky no one was around to hear that."
Max runs a hand through her hair. "Oh god I'm so alone."
The empty apartment silently agrees.
Taking her own advice, Max heads into the shower, dumping her clothes in a trail as she goes. Naked, she shivers a little as she climbs into the shower, though the brief chill spell is just that - brief - as the shower itself is almost immediately pleasantly steamy.
Max hums, relaxing under the almost scalding torrent of water, and letting it wash away the stresses of the previous day. Naturally, her thoughts begin to drift in Chloe's direction, mostly focusing on her shoulders, forearms glistening with sweat, and her toned midriff.
Before she knows it, her hand is travelling downwards, past the swell of her breasts, past her navel, over neatly trimmed hairs to finally glide through folds already slick with moisture.
"Mm." Max quietly moans. It's been a while since she's felt the urge to pleasure herself, but the insistent pressure in her abdomen is still acutely familiar to her. Her fingers find her clit, rubbing in slow circles as her brain goes into overdrive, feeding her a constant stream of fantasies about Chloe. One second, Chloe is eating her out in the shower, her tongue turning Max to jelly. The next, she's pinning Max against the wall, her hot breath ghosting over Max's ear as Chloe's fingers fuck Max into a stupor.
"Chloe…" The name falls over her lips as a whisper. With her free hand, she grabs her breast, rolling a hard pink nipple between her fingers for extra stimulation.
Between her legs, her fingers swirl faster around her clit. Max grits her teeth. She can already feel the sensitive organ pulling her towards an unexpectedly needed orgasm.
"C'mon." She growls to herself, unable to keep her hips from bucking into her own hand. As a consequence, a fingernail catches the edge of her clit, and suddenly everything is too sensitive, too overwhelming.
Reluctantly, Max pulls her fingers away. "God fucking damn it." She exclaims in frustration. She turns towards the shower head, hoping that maybe she can use it to-
Nope. It's bolted to the wall.
Max glares horny, frustrated daggers at it.
Resigning herself to just having to be pent up until she can unpack her vibrator, Max continues with the rest of her shower. It isn't until she's dried off and wrapped in a towel that she realises - with horror - that her vibrator is with the rest of her stuff. In her car. In Chloe's workshop.
Surely Chloe wouldn't dig through her things, would she?
No, of course not. Max decides. It's an absurd notion to even consider. Though, inevitably, it does lead Max to consider whether Chloe uses toys herself.
A sudden vision flits through her mind: a naked Chloe, legs spread, thrusting down hard onto a thick, ridged dildo.
"Stop it." Max tells herself.
In an effort to distract herself, as well as to banish a few lingering, intrusive thoughts that maybe she shouldn't have been masturbating to someone she just met, she focuses on getting dressed. Max picks out a short white shirt that comes down to just above her navel, a sports bra to go underneath it, underwear, and since she can already feel the L.A heat starting to creep in, a pair of shorts that just about reach mid-thigh.
Next, she sees about breakfast, which consists of - what else - leftover Chinese. She's still chewing on a re-heated spring roll when movement outside her kitchen window catches her eye: it's her car, with Chloe in the driver's seat.
Max jumps up from her chair, almost choking on the spring roll in the process, and races to the front door.
When she yanks it open, Chloe's fist hasn't even made contact with the wooden surface yet, and has been left hovering awkwardly in midair.
"Uh, Hi." Chloe says.
"Hi." Max replies, somewhat breathlessly.
The breathlessness came, not from her sprint to the door, but Chloe's outfit: skinny jeans cut off just above the knee, a loose, floaty plaid shirt she hasn't bothered to button up, and underneath that, a black bralette.
Is she allergic to having her midriff covered? Max wonders.
Almost instantly, the heat inside her lower belly - that had been slowly simmering down - flares into life again, with a vengeance. It's so strong Max almost lurches.
God fucking damn it. Her eternally horny lesbian lizard brain laments.
"So I, uh, brought your car back?" Chloe points a thumb over her shoulder, oblivious to Max's internal tidal wave of arousal.
"Right. Thanks." Max forces herself to say.
"The part was only twenty bucks, so with cost of labour added in, let's say an even fifty?" Chloe counts off on her fingers.
"That's… cheap?" Max says.
"Hey, I said I'd give you a discount, and I did." Chloe grins. "Anyway, all your stuff is still there. Figured you'd need it back." She jokes.
"I do like having possessions." Max shoots back.
"Hey, me too. And you know what's better than owning possessions? Having them inside where you live."
"Yeah, I - wait what?"
By the time Max asks her question, Chloe is already opening the trunk and grabbing a bag.
"What are you doing?" A genuinely confused Max asks.
"Helping you move in, duh." Chloe says, as if it's the most natural thing in the world for her to do.
"I - but - you-" Max stammers.
"But nothin'." Chloe insists. 'I'm helping you out and that's that." She sidesteps around a still flabbergasted Max, and takes the bag into the apartment.
Max blinks no less than seven times. This was not how she had envisioned the day going.
"Oh so you did get Beifong's." She hears Chloe call from within her kitchen.
"I - yeah, I did." Max finds her words again.
"So, what'cha think?" Chloe probes as Max comes back inside.
"You were right, they were hella good." Max admits.
"Told'ja." Chloe crosses her arms and cants her hip in self-assured victory. Unfortunately for Max, this has the effect of pushing Chloe's breasts together, creating a tantalising amount of cleavage.
Max almost breaks her neck trying not to immediately zero her gaze in on what is obviously a fine pair of breasts.
"So where do you want me to put this?" Chloe says.
"Huh?"
"The bag?" Chloe prompts.
"Oh." Max forces herself to pay attention to Chloe's words over what her body is doing. It's almost a herculean effort. "Anywhere, I guess?"
Chloe puts the bag down by the door leading into Max's bedroom. "This good?"
"Sure." Max nods.
"Awesome." Chloe says, and immediately moves to go back to the car.
"Chloe, wait." Max blurts out before she can make it past the door. "Why are you helping me so much? You literally only met me yesterday."
Chloe pauses, her hand resting on the doorframe. "Because this town is full of assholes, Max." She says slowly, the cheerful veneer having disappeared from her voice. "It's full of assholes and people who don't give a shit about other people. I'm trying to not be one of those assholes." She pauses for a moment. "Lemme ask you a question, I know I haven't known you long, but, have you wondered why I own a garage when I'm, like, twenty five, and a woman as well?"
Max shakes her head. "I haven't, no."
"Because it wasn't mine originally. It was my Dad's. I run the place now because some asshole of a drunk driver hit him with their car and crushed his leg. He was okay, eventually, but couldn't do the work anymore. So I stepped up."
"So when I see a new girl in town, with her broken car and not a single friend for hundreds of miles, I see how helpless my Dad was in those first few weeks afterwards, and something just tells me to help." Chloe smiles warmly. "Plus I've got nothing else to do today, and I'd rather work up a sweat doing something productive here than sweating my ass off on my own just sitting around."
"... Point taken." Max capitulates.
"Excellent. Now come tell me what shit you want where."
"You know, for an apartment you found in - what was it again?"
"Three weeks." Max answers from outside.
"-Three weeks, it ain't bad!" Chloe says as she puts the penultimate box down on the floor. "A few little personal touches and you'll look right at home."
"You think so?" Max says, carrying the last box in.
"Definitely. It's a nice little place." Chloe confirms.
"Good to-." Max starts to say, but catches her foot on a door frame, and over balances. The box she's carrying flies out of her grasp, landing with a thud on the floor.
"You okay?" Chloe asks.
"Yeah, just tripped." Max says, flushing a little in embarrassment.
"Hey, at least the only thing injured is your pride." Chloe jokes. "Though you might wanna check the box. I didn't hear anything obvious break, but you never-"
The box in question, quietly but unmistakably, begins to vibrate.
Max immediately panics, seizes it in her arms, and hurls it into the bedroom. She slams the door, breathing heavily.
"Oh my god." She laments, mortally embarrassed.
"Dude, it's fine." Chloe says, though she's clearly trying her utmost not to giggle. "No seriously," She continues, "We're both girls here, and like, everyone owns toys these days. You've got nothing to be embarrassed about. Hell, I've got a shit-ton myself."
For Max, hearing that Chloe has an extensive collection of sex toys is almost worse than the embarrassment.
"You do?" She forces herself to say.
"Yep. Vibrators, handcuffs, dildos, even a good ol' strappy. You name it, I've probably tried it. I'm a hella liberated woman." Chloe sends a wink her way.
All Max can think about is her fantasy from earlier. Knowing she's right about Chloe owning toys is definitely making the mental image several degrees of magnitude hotter.
Max is suddenly very conscious of how hot her crotch feels.
"A-anyway." Max forces out. "I think I'm good here? But thanks a ton for helping out."
"Are you sure?" Chloe casts an eye around at the boxes and bags still lying around, all still packed. "Like, I can help you unpack if you-"
"I'm okay." Max says, a little too quickly. "I can unpack stuff in my own time."
Chloe still looks skeptical.
"And I'm kinda tired." Max continues, adding in a fake yawn and a stretch.
"Dude it's only like, noon."
"I know, must be the heat here." Max fans herself for effect.
"Man, I hear that." Chloe agrees. She echoes Max, and stretches, holding her arms up high above her head.
Max eyes can't help but snap down to Chloe's abs - like two midriff-seeking missiles - which are thrust into high relief by the angle of the stretch. She's almost certain she feels a surge of wetness inside her underwear.
"Anyway," Chloe says when she finishes stretching, "I'll get out of your hair and let you nap, or decorate, or whatever it is you're gonna do."
"Sure, and, thanks for your help again. Really." Max says.
"Don't sweat it, it was fun. Oh, and before I forget," Chloe fishes a business card out of her pocket and hands it to Max, "If your shit breaks again, or even if you just need a friend, call me."
"I will." Max nods.
"And if everything goes completely perfect for you and I never see you again, it was nice meeting you, Max Caulfield. And good luck with your photography."
"Thanks." Max smiles. "It was nice to meet you too."
Chloe extends a hand for a fistbump, which Max reciprocates. In the quiet room, their fists connect with a small but audible thap.
Chloe winks at her again. Then, she's gone.
To her credit, Max manages to last almost an entire minute before running for the bedroom.
Seconds later, she's face down on the bed, legs spread and sticky panties around her ankles, desperately grinding her clit against her vibrator. When even that level of relief isn't enough, Max pushes two fingers into herself, wishing it was Chloe and her strap-on filling her instead of her own paltry digits.
"Oh god…" Max moans. The thought of Chloe taking her fast and hard, along with her fingers and the welcome air of her mechanical friend, is enough to push her towards a much needed orgasm.
A single, high pitched squeal bursts from her throat as Max comes explosively, drenching the bedsheets underneath her. Max slams her fingers into herself, drawing out and prolonging the orgasm as much as she can
When it's over, she rolls over onto her back, studiously avoiding the conspicuous wet patch. Sweat beads along the edge of her forehead, and her chest rises and falls with heavy, ragged breaths.
All Max can do is smile dopily as her body hits her with a massive oxytocin dump.
Almost a week goes by before Max finds it impossible to resist contacting Chloe anymore.
The first few days aren't so bad, as she mostly occupies herself with unpacking, decorating her apartment and giving it enough little touches that it feels 'hers'. She still thinks about Chloe, but there's always something else to do to keep her mind from dwelling too much on the mechanic.
It's the days after that - specifically, the weekend - that are the problem, because Max still doesn't know anyone in L.A, and as such has absolutely nothing to do at the weekend other than sit around, half pay attention to her Netflix queue, and attempt to ease her frustration as thoughts of Chloe threaten to overwhelm most of her waking moments.
It's after her fifth frustrated masturbation session that Max caves, and fishes the business card Chloe gave her out of her bag.
She taps the numbers into her cellphone, sighs to herself, and presses the call button.
The phone feels like it rings for an agonisingly long time before Chloe picks up.
"Priceless Mechanics - we do what the other guys do, but cheaper and better." Chloe says over a slightly crackly line.
"Yeah, uh, hi. It's Max." She says.
"Caulfield!" An excited exclamation bursts from the phone. "I had a feeling you'd be calling me at some point. What's up?"
Max panics for a second. She can't admit she's just feeling lonely, or that she's been thinking about Chloe non-stop for almost seventy-two hours now.
"It's. Uh. It's my car." She blurts out. "It's making a weird noise." Max lies.
"Huh. I thought it should've been okay." Chloe's voice sounds concerned. "What kind of noise?"
"Like a clicking sound?" It's the first thing that comes into Max's head.
"Any idea where it's coming from?"
"The, um, gearbox?"
There's a moment of silence before Chloe responds. "Yeah that's probably not good." She says. "I think I can pencil you in for tomorrow and come take a look?"
"That'd be great." Max agrees a little too quickly.
"Alright, see you tomorrow." And with that, Chloe hangs up.
Max almost vibrates with excitement. It doesn't matter that there's actually nothing wrong with the car, or that she isn't exactly telling Chloe the truth. Seeing the object of her affections for even a few minutes would surely be enough, right?
Right?
For Max, the next day arrives excruciatingly slowly. She barely sleeps a wink, and when she does, her dreams revolve around a blue-haired siren who tempts her at every opportunity.
When her alarm goes off, she rockets out of bed, already breathing heavily. Chloe isn't due for a couple of hours, which gives her enough time to make sure she looks good, but not too good. She doesn't want to look desperate, after all.
She wolfs down her breakfast as fast as humanly possible, then jumps in the shower, where she spends a long time making sure she's as fresh as she can be.
Afterwards, Max carefully picks out an outfit. She wants to look as if she's put some care into her choices, but not so much that Chloe would immediately figure out Max wants to pin her to the floor and run her tongue along Chloe's jawline.
She settles on an outfit that lightly emulates Chloe: high-waisted jeans that show off her legs and ass, a flannel shirt she leaves unbuttoned, and a slightly battered and torn grey tank top that's the most punk thing she owns. As a final touch, Max even applies makeup. It's only a little bit of smokey eyeshadow and a subtle lip gloss, but for her, it's a lot.
Then, she waits. The hour until Chloe is due to arrive feels like it stretches out for an eternity. Max spends most of it sitting at her kitchen table, nursing a coffee and letting her foot bounce impatiently.
"Finally!" Max exclaims when she hears the sound of a truck and loud punk rock music outside. She gets up from the table, not even bothering to wait for Chloe to knock first, and heads outside.
"Nice outfit." Chloe greets her as Max walks up to the truck, casting an eye up and down her.
"Thanks." Max blushes a little, even though Chloe complimenting her was exactly what she was hoping would happen. Chloe is wearing the same thing Max first saw her in, much to the delight of Max's perpetually thirsty libido.
"So, come show me this mysterious clicking noise." Chloe nods towards Max's car.
"Oh. Right. Sure."
Max leads her towards the car, growing more conscious every second that Chloe will most likely immediately figure out that nothing is wrong with it. Why did she say something wasn't working when she should have just asked Chloe out for brunch or something?
Brunch? What, are you a character in a mid-noughties sitcom now?
"Alright, let's see what we've got." Chloe slides into the driver's seat. She performs a few basic tests while Max stands by, trying not to fret.
"Well," Chloe says a couple of minutes later, "I'm not hearing anything, and everything feels fine. You sure it was making a noise?"
"I thought it was?" Max hastily says. "Could've been hearing things though."
"Uh-huh." Chloe says, with a tone in her voice that clearly says she doesn't quite believe Max, and a slight narrowing of her eyes.
Max looks away, trying to not look guilty.
"Well, keep an ear out anyway." Chloe says, moving on. "I always say that your ride'll tell you when something's wrong. But, hopefully, it'll be fine." She opens the door and climbs out, obviously preparing to leave.
Max panics. Chloe's been there for less than ten minutes. She can't let her go just yet.
Make conversation. Ask her out for coffee. Do SOMETHING. Her brain screams.
"Alright, if we're good here." Chloe jerks her head in the direction of her truck.
ASK HER ASK HER ASK HER.
"Um." Max begins.
Chloe turns back, watching her curiously. "Yeah, Max?"
"Do you. Uh. Do you wanna get coffee or something? With me, that is. Um." Max forces out, hardly believing she's managing to actually say it.
"Oh." Chloe says. "I'm sorry dude. But I'm booked up until pretty late tomorrow." She at least has the grace to look sheepish. "Gotta make a living, y'know?"
"Totally." Max nods, trying not to appear immediately and obviously crestfallen.
"I'm gonna…" Chloe indicates her truck again.
"Sure." Max says. "See you around?"
"You know it." Chloe says before driving away. It's an assurance, Max is sure, but it doesn't do much to quell her rampant emotions.
"God fucking damn it, Max." The photographer chastises herself as soon as she's back in her apartment. "Of course she's busy. She has a life, and a job, and she probably fucking saw straight through you."
Max throws herself onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. "Fuck." She groans. "She probably thinks you're an idiot now. Or that you're just wasting her time."
She sighs. It isn't even midday and already the day feels like a total bust.
She forces herself to get up and do something to take her mind off Chloe, even a little bit. She's meant to be prepping for the job she starts next week, but even the thought of that proves to be too much mental energy. Instead, Max ends up sorting the most recent few hundred photos from her DSLR into digital folders until she's bored out of her skill.
With another sigh, Max closes the laptop and digs the heels of her hands into her eyes.
This just wouldn't do.
"Fuck it." Max declares. With a determined stride, she marches up to one of her kitchen cabinets, yanks it open, retrieves the bottle of red wine stored inside, and pours herself a generous glass.
Half a glass later, the edge has been taken off.
Two glasses later, Max is proud she even managed to ask Chloe out for coffee.
Four glasses later, Max's alcohol-soaked brain is telling her she should call Chloe and apologise for earlier.
One empty bottle later, Max is both absolutely smashed, and thinks calling Chloe is the best idea she's ever had.
She digs out her phone and drunkenly stabs at it with her finger. By some miracle, she manages to call Chloe on the first attempt.
Before long, the line picks up, and Chloe' voice sounds over the speaker, giving the same opening spiel she gave last time.
"Heyyy ." Max says.
"Max? That you? What's up, did it start making the noise again?"
"Nah." Max hiccups a little. "Lissen, I gotta apop- polly - say sorry." She slurs.
"Dude, are you drunk?" Even in Max's inebriated state, she noticed Chloe sounds highly amused.
"Mebbe a l'il." She admits. "But I gotta say sorrrry, cuz, m'car was fine. Nothin' wrong with - with the… flux capacithing."
"Max, that's from Back to the Future. And I kinda figured the car was fine."
"I jus- just wanned t'see ya." Max forges on. "Cuz you're like, so fuckin' pretty , and ya got hella abs, 'n I kinda wanna mash m' face into yours, but I don' know shit 'bout cars so I hadta lie a l'il bit n' get you over, cuz I just like you, but's fine if you don't feel t' same way, like, I 'unno if you even like girls inna homosex- homo - gay way. Cuz I'm hella gay, but-"
"Okay, okay, okay. Dude, stop, you're killing me here." Chloe interrupts Max's drunken stream, sounding almost hysterical with laughter. "One: you're both hilarious and cute as fuck when you're drunk. Two: as you clearly 'don't know shit' about cars, come over tomorrow evening. I'll teach you some basic stuff, and how to take care of your engine ."
"I like t' way that sounds." Max leers drunkenly, even though Chloe can't see it.
"Simmer down, Caulfield." Chloe laughs. "Now write that down in case you forget it when you sober up."
"A'ight. I'mma write thing." Max says, scrambling around for a pen and paper, before remembering she has a notepad - with attached pen - stuck to the fridge.
"Kinda sleepy…" She mumbles into the phone once she's written a note to herself.
"Yeah, you've clearly had enough." Chloe agrees. "Go get some rest, you hear me? That's an order."
"Yes Missss." Max totters drunkenly over towards her bedroom. "G'night abs- I mean Chloe…" She slurs once she hits the mattress.
"Goodnight, Max." A still-amused Chloe replied.
Max doesn't hear it. She's already passed out.
Max awakes in a pool of her own saliva, some of it still liquid, some dried and crusted onto her cheek.
"Oh my god." She groans as she becomes aware of an already pounding headache. Her tongue feels fuzzy, and a brief wave of nausea washes over her when she raises her head off the pillow.
The first thing Max does when she's able to stand is stagger to the bathroom, where she takes a scaldingly hot shower in an effort to feel a little more human.
When she finishes, she wraps herself up in a bathrobe and plonks herself down at the kitchen table. Something on the fridge catches her eye: one of her bright orange reminder notes, coveted with black scribbles. Curious, Max goes up to inspect it.
There, haphazardly scrawled in all-caps, says "CHLOE TEACH CAR STUFF."
Max pauses. Blinks.
"Oh no." She says.
She reaches for her phone, a feeling of dread settling at the bottom of her stomach. Her call log confirms her worst fear: an outgoing call to Chloe. It was even answered.
"Oh no." Max repeats.
She had drunk dialled Chloe.
Steeling herself for the worst, she presses the call button. Better find out if she's said anything dumb, rather than putting it off and worrying herself into a Max-shaped ball of stress.
Chloe answers almost immediately.
"Good morning Max." She says, sounding far too chipper for Max's liking.
"Hey, Chloe." Max answers, already internally cringing. "I, uh. I think I drunk called you last night?"
"Yeah you did." Comes the mechanic's reply.
Oh god. Max thinks.
"Listen, I didn't, um, say anything embarrassing did I? Because I found a note on my fridge door saying something about you teaching me car stuff, and I honestly can't remember shit about last night."
"Nah, you didn't." Chloe lies. "You just, kinda sounded like you needed a friend."
That's not too bad. Max's internal monologue says.
"I did?"
"Yeah. Honestly it was kinda cute."
"A-anyway. Car stuff?" Max asks.
"Oh, yeah I offered to teach you some basic maintenance shit after I'm done with everything today." Chloe explains, this time leaving off the double-entendre. "You still up for it? You sound a little fragile."
"I'll be fine. I've had worse hangovers." Max says.
"Cool. See you around six? Maybe bring a change of clothes in case things get a little filthy." Chloe says, with a very slight emphasis on the last word.
Max, somehow, fails to notice it.
"Sure." She answers.
"Excellent." Chloe says cheerily. "It's a date."
"Okay, see you - wait, what?" Max's brain slams to a full stop.
Unfortunately for her, Chloe's already hung up.
Max spends the rest of the day flitting between several modes: recovering from her hangover, anxiously clock-watching - which only has the effect of causing the day to stretch out ever longer - and most of all, fretting to the max about just what Chloe meant by saying "It's a date."
Did she mean a date date, or like, just hanging out as friends? Or was she using the word ironically? Damn it, Chloe what did you mean?
Her mind goes into repeat, recycling those same questions endlessly for hours on end.
When the time comes to hop in her car and head on over to Chloe's, it's almost a relief, even though Max is inwardly nervous as all hell.
She steps out of her car, instantly noticing the door has been left open, more than likely just for her.
"Hello?" She calls out as she enters, much the same as the first time she set foot in the place.
"Hey Max!" Chloe's voice sounds from within the garage. She sounds pleased. Jovial, even. "Come on in."
Max does so, heading straight for the workshop. She enters, seeing Chloe has moved her truck in to occupy the singular space within. It's facing out towards the exit, with its hood open. Chloe is obviously behind it, momentarily shielded from view.
"I, uh, brought some clothes like you said." Max says, hefting a bag even though Chloe can't see it. "What exactly are you gonna teach me?"
"Oh, you'll see." Chloe says wryly. Then, she steps out from behind the hood.
Max immediately has to check herself, as if she doesn't, she's going to bite her lip in lust, and Chloe's definitely going to notice that.
The reason why? Chloe's wearing a tank top, albeit it a tank top so tight Max can easily see the outline of her abs. Somehow, it's even hotter than when she's had her midriff exposed. Coupled with the tank is a pair of daisy dukes almost scandalously short. Naturally, Chloe's thighs are exposed, revealing an intricate, stylised tattoo of a blue morpho butterfly resting delicately on top of an impressive looking engine. It immediately draws Max's eyes, mostly because of how well it's been done, but also because Chloe's thighs are more than enough to trigger something within her.
"Nice, right?" Chloe smirks, having caught Max staring. "It's a V-8."
"A what?" Max says in a daze.
"The engine tat, dude." Chloe sounds suspiciously amused already.
"Oh. It's nice."
"It better be," Chloe grins, "I paid nine hundred bucks for it. Now get over here, Caulfield. I have some things to teach you."
Still captivated, Max blindly obeys.
"Now, stand in front of the truck." Chloe orders.
Max does so. She runs a hand over the rim of the chassis, feeling the cold metal.
Chloe scoots up next to her, until they're practically shoulder to shoulder.
"N-now what?" Max manages to force out.
"Now, I'mma teach you how to check the oil level." Chloe moves behind her, almost flush against Max's back.
Max has to repress a shudder. Does she have to stand so close ?
"Now, you see the little yellow cap with the oil symbol next to it?" Chloe points at the relevant part. Her breath ghosts over Max's shoulder.
"Yes." Max says, suppressing goosebumps.
"Pull on it. That'll pull the oil stick out."
Max does so. "Now what?"
"Now, we clean the oil off, like so." Chloe produces a rag. "Here." She says, and presses it into Max's palm. Then, much to Max's surprise, she lays her hand over Max's, and gently but decisively guides her hand to wipe off the leftover oil.
"Not so hard, huh?" Chloe breathes.
"Y-yeah."
"Now we're gonna check the oil level. So, we need to take the stick, and slide it back inside."
Does she even hear herself?
"Here, I'll show you." Chloe continues.
Suddenly, there's a hand on Max's left hip, as Chloe guides Max to push the oil stick back into its receptacle.
This time, Max can't help it. She shivers. Chloe notices.
"Are you okay?" She asks. There's something knowing in her voice.
"Yeah. Just, cold." Max lies.
"Uh-huh." From the sound of her voice, Chloe is still smirking. "Are you gonna pull it out?"
"What?"
"The oil stick."
"Oh."
Max pulls the stick out again, and holds it up.
"See?" Chloe nods at the end of the stick. "It's right between the minimum and maximum level. Everything's fine. All we need to do is put it back."
Max obeys, assuming the lesson is over, but Chloe remains where she is behind Max, her hand still resting on her hip.
Max doesn't dare move a muscle.
"See, your ride is like a lover." Chloe murmurs. "Treat her well, pay attention to her when she's saying something isn't right, make her feel appreciated in all the right ways…"
Chloe's hand moves ever so slightly upwards, coming into contact with the sliver of skin between Max's shirt and the waistband of her pants.
Max jumps, just a little.
"... And you'll make her purr. " Chloe finishes, her lips so close to Max's ear that Max closes her eyes and breathes in sharply.
Her heart is hammering so hard she's surprised Chloe can't hear it in the silence of the workshop.
"That's… good. To know." Max struggles to say, her voice barely a whisper. "I, um. Is there more? A-about cars? That I should know, because-"
"Oh my god you're dense as fuck, dude." Chloe exclaims. "I'm trying to hit on you here."
Before Max can process what Chloe just said, two powerful arms spin her around, and Chloe's lips are crushed against hers in a ferocious, fiery kiss.
She's kissing me! Max internally shrieks. She's. Kissing. Me!
As if in response to her thoughts, Chloe pulls back slightly, only a couple of inches, before surging in to capture Max's lips again.
Kiss her back! Her internal monologue yells at her.
This time, Max listens. She opens her mouth, welcoming Chloe's lips and tongue.
Chloe wastes no time in seizing the opportunity. She pushes Max back against the truck, pressing up aggressively against her.
Max kisses back, hard. Chloe seems to like it, as she cups Max's cheek, and smiles into the kiss.
"I thought you'd never catch on." Chloe breathes.
Max doesn't respond - at least, not verbally. Instead, emboldened by Chloe's response, she moves her hands down to Chloe's ass, and squeezes.
At this, Chloe growls. Her hands roam Max's body, tugging at her hair, stroking her arms, pulling at clothes. Eventually, she settles for rucking Max's shirt up over her midriff, exposing pale, quivering flesh.
"Wait." Max breaks the kiss. "How long have you known?"
"What, that you like me?" Chloe grins. "From the moment I met you. You're not exactly subtle. I mean, saying 'wowser' when I bent over your car?"
Max blushes a deep shade of red. "Can you blame me?"
"Definitely not. I have a great ass. Speaking of…" She grips Max's butt. "So do you."
"So… you like me too?" Max ventures.
Chloe actually looks shocked. "Uh, are we not making out right now? Of course I like you. Like, literally my first thought about you went something like 'hot damn that's a cute hipster chick.' "
"Wait, seriously?" Max giggles.
"Seriously. Why do you think I kept dressing in things I knew would drive you crazy? I knew exactly what I was doing. Case in point:" Chloe nods down at the skintight tank. "You really like my abs."
Max blushes again. "You got that just from being around me?"
"Oh. Uh." Chloe looks sheepish for a second. "I maybe lied. A little. When you drunk called me last night, you did kinda admit to liking them. And me."
"Oh god, I did?" Max cringes. "How embarrassing was it?"
"Honestly it was hella adorable." Chloe reassures her. "Plus, I'd say it worked out pretty well for both of us." She leers.
"You make a good point." Max admits.
"Hey, you know what else is a good point?"
"What?"
"We're talking instead of making out."
"That is a good - mmph!"
Max is cut off by Chloe claiming her lips for a second time, in a kiss even more explosive than the previous.
If their first kiss had ignited a furnace of desire within Max, their second is a nuclear explosion.
Max finds herself moaning into the kiss, and in a surge of confidence, rakes her nails down Chloe's back.
Chloe hisses in pleasure, and grinds her hips into Max's, before attacking Max's neck with her tongue, teeth and lips in retaliation.
"Fuck…" Max groans. Chloe takes it as encouragement, and sucks hard on Max's pulse point, more than enough to leave a lasting hickey.
Max mewls like a kitten, and suddenly her hands are scrabbling at the edge of Chloe's tank top. She's so desperate she'll rip it off Chloe if she has to. She doesn't care that they're technically in full view of the street outside. She needs Chloe and she needs her now.
Fortunately, Chloe correctly interprets Max's intentions. Within seconds, her tank top is whipped off and thrown aside, leaving Chloe's upper half clad solely in a white sports bra.
Max's hands immediately travel to Chloe's abs, exploring the firm flesh and hardened muscles there with eager fingers. Chloe hums in appreciation, her own hands travelling up and down Max's back in reciprocation.
Chloe's hands are warm, her touch heavenly. Max closes her eyes again, enjoying how pleasant the mechanic's fingers are as they travel across her waist, and then back upwards, under her pulled up shirt and over the strap of her bra.
The next thing Max feels is a deft flick, and suddenly everything is a little looser.
"Chloe." She says. "Did you just undo my bra?"
"Maybe." Chloe grins lasciviously.
"That's cheating." Max fake pouts.
"Cheating?"
"Yeah. My shirt is still on." Max says, and with confidence borne from the power of being extremely horny, strips it off.
Her bra, loosened from its hold on her body by Chloe, and now unfettered by the confines of her shirt, also drops to the floor.
This time, Max is pleased to see, it's Chloe's turn to have her jaw drop.
"Well?" She asks after a few seconds of Chloe staring intently, mouth agape, at her breasts.
"... I ever tell you I hella have a thing for freckles?" Chloe says.
"Oh, these?" Max asks, pointing at the dusting of freckles over the bridge of her nose and under her eyes. "Or these?" She continues, tracing a hand between small but pert breasts, following a trail of more freckles that partially covers her upper chest.
Chloe's response is swift and decisive: she cups Max's breasts, even as she reclaims the shorter woman's lips. She finds Max's already hard nipples, and gives them an experimental roll between her thumbs and forefingers.
Max attempts to moan again, but it's cut short by Chloe shoving her tongue into her mouth.
Instead, Max pushes her chest further into Chloe's hands, letting her know physically how much she likes the attention Chloe is giving her. Then, Chloe rolls a nipple again, and Max can't help but squeak.
"Want… You." Max mumbles into the kiss. " Need…"
Chloe doesn't need to hear anymore. She moves on from Max's lips to pepper kisses along her jawline, then down her neck, chest and stomach, making a beeline for the centre of Max's desire.
"Yes…" Max hisses as Chloe's mouth travels ever lower and over the taut, quivering flesh of her abdomen. In return, Chloe squeezes her breasts again, massaging pleasurably.
Chloe's just about to attempt to flick open the button on Max's jeans with her teeth, when she happens to glance upwards. Unbeknownst to the mechanic, she must have had some engine grease or something left on her hands, as Max's torso is now covered in grease stains, including two neat handprints over her breasts.
"Uh, I don't wanna kill the mood," She says from down near Max's waistband, "But we may need to clean you up a little."
"What?" Max has to snap herself out of a haze of lust. She looks down. "Oh." She says.
"Yeah, my bad. And trust me, engine grease ain't good to get in more sensitive places." Chloe says, looking sheepish. "Although…" A mischievous look creeps into her eyes. "I do have a shower."
Max grins. "I like the sound of that."
"Strip." Chloe playfully pushes Max into the bathroom. "Lemme see that hipster ass of yours."
"Hey, I'm already topless!" Max protests. "You first."
"Exactly, you're half naked already. Might as well finish the job." Chloe argues.
"Nuh-uh. You first." Max insists.
"Why?" Chloe crosses her arms and smirks. "I've got more clothes on than you."
"Because I've been imagining what you look like naked for over an entire goddamn week, and I've already lost count how many times I've fucked myself thinking about you." Max crosses her own arms. "As far as I'm concerned, you owe me tits at least. "
"Wow." Chloe is genuinely taken aback. "Yeah, you win." She goes to strip off her daisy dukes, but pauses. "Though seriously, the idea of you getting yourself off to me is hot as fuck, dude."
Max twirls a finger. "Less talky, more strippy."
Chloe laughs, "Y'know, I think I like thirsty Max. She's demanding. If you want me to strip for you, that's what you're gonna get."
With a wink, Chloe turns round and shimmies out of her daisy dukes, bending over for Max's benefit once again.
"Fuck…" Max breathes. Chloe really does have a great ass, accentuated by some tight fitting boyshorts, with subtle musculature extending into long, shapely legs.
"Told you." Chloe looks back at Max, before surprising the photographer by sliding her boyshorts down over her ass, then entirely off.
Now almost entirely naked, apart from the sports bra, Chloe turns round and saunters towards Max, putting a suggestive wiggle into her hips as she does so.
Max's heart feels like it's going to explode. Chloe is ridiculously attractive and - judging from her smirk - she obviously knows it.
Chloe reaches up, and a few seconds later, the bra is gone. Max bites her lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. Her eyes want to be everywhere at once: roaming from the muscles of Chloe's shoulders and abdomen, to the cleft between her legs - with a neatly trimmed landing strip, to full breasts with just the right amount of curve, with a metal bar through her left nipple.
"I'm pretty sure that's 'at least' tits." Chloe proudly draws.
"I… wowser." Max says, again.
"Thanks." Chloe rests a hand on her hip. "I mean, I do have pretty great tits."
She closes the distance between them, and rests her arms over Max's shoulders. "Now, I'm naked. How about you do the same?"
Max blindly obeys, her hands going for the button on her jeans, but is surprised when Chloe stops her.
"Wait." She says. "I wanna do this myself."
Chloe gazes deep into Max's eyes, maintaining eye contact, and quite literally establishing dominance as she undoes Max's jeans, and with a deft yank - with Max's gaze still captured, of course - disrobes the smaller woman entirely.
Max shudders. Being completely nude in front of Chloe is the most intimate feeling she's ever felt in her life, and Chloe hasn't even touched her yet.
"Keep looking at me." Chloe orders. "I wanna see your face."
"W-why?" Max stammers.
"Because I want to see what you look like when I do this." Chloe purrs, and with a skillful, surprisingly soft touch, glides two - grease free - fingers through Max's folds.
Immediately, Max's breath hitches, her mouth drops open, and her eyes flutter closed.
"Chloe…" She whispers, already having to stop herself from grinding her hips into Chloe's welcome touch.
"Mm. Thought so." Chloe says, and holds two fingers up, glistening with moisture. "I bet you've been wet all day thinking about me."
Then, Chloe gasps herself, as Max does exactly the same thing to her.
"You can talk." Max grins.
Chloe narrows her eyes. "Shower. Now." She practically growls.
"Yes Ma'am." Max makes a show of stepping into the shower-bath combo and turning the shower on, groaning luxuriously when the instantly steamy water hits her skin. She throws her head back and closes her eyes, revelling in how good the water feels.
"May I?" She hears Chloe ask.
Max opens her eyes to find Chloe has stepped in with her, and is holding a soaped up washcloth.
"Be my guest." Max gestures to her wet, naked body.
Chloe begins to wash her, taking slow, deliberate, meticulous care, like a Romantic-era painter obsessing over a great work of art.
As Chloe glides the cloth over her now-soap-covered skin, Max closes her eyes again, making little, contented noises. Chloe is being extremely gentle, her ministrations bringing Max a warm sense of quiet pleasure that, while not quite sexual, is still deeply satisfying.
She feels Chloe's lips on her neck, and automatically moves her head, giving Chloe greater access.
Max's breath hitches again as Chloe nibbles and licks her way up the photographer's jugular, before ghosting her breath over Max's earlobe.
"Chloe…" Max moans once more.
She doesn't have to say anything else. Chloe's lips are on hers again in a soft, gentle kiss that feels like the most intimate yet.
Max melts into it, giving her entire being to the woman making her feel so many things.
Things like Chloe's hand creeping down her abdomen.
When long, surprisingly delicate fingers cup her sex, Max readily and willingly opens herself to Chloe's talents.
In no time at all, Max is panting into the kiss as Chloe teases her clit with her thumb, while circling Max's entrance with two fingers.
"Please!" Max whines, rolling her hips into Chloe's hand.
"Please… what?" Chloe murmurs in her ear.
"Please take me." Max groans.
"That's so fucking hot." Chloe says, her voice dripping with lust.
Then, she enters Max, pushing two fingers gently but deeply inside her. Max gasps, automatically spreading her legs a little further to accommodate Chloe's touch.
"More!" Max pants.
In response, Chloe begins leisurely pumping, her fingers gliding in and out of tight, wet heat. Along with the thumb still on Max's clit, it isn't even a minute before Max is already approaching an orgasm.
She mewls like a kitten, her hips bucking into Chloe's hand. "Chloe!" She gasps. "I'm-!"
Chloe seizes her lips in another fiery kiss, seconds before Max comes, her inner walls tightening and fluttering around Chloe's fingers. It's more of a gentle orgasm than something truly intense, feeling more like a warm up than anything else: a preview of things to come.
"You're hella cute when you come." Chloe praises her.
"Don't stop!" Max pants in reply. "You feel so good." One hand grips Chloe's back, bringing her closer, while the other ventures between Chloe's legs, eager to bring the mechanic as much pleasure as she's giving Max.
"Mm." Chloe lets out a small moan as Max begins rubbing, swiftly finding her clit. "Fuck, you're good."
Seeking more encouragement, Max dips her fingers lower, circling Chloe's entrance. But to her surprise, Chloe lays a hand over hers, stopping her.
"Chloe? I thought you wanted me to-"
"Oh I do." Chloe interrupts her. "And believe me, I wanna get off hella hard right now. But," She pins Max's arms above her head, "I teased you for an entire week. Right now, this is all about you."
"But-"
"But nothin'. Now shut up and let me put my tongue in your pussy." For added emphasis, Chloe clamps a hand over Max's mouth, preventing her from protesting. Then, she kisses her way down Max's body, making sure to give Max her best fuck-me eyes the entire time.
The first lap of her tongue against Max's clit is enough to make the photographer let her head fall back and her eyes drift closed.
Chloe smirks, and dives in with admirable gusto: swiping, flicking and kissing until Max is a gasping, shuddering mess.
Max can hardly believe it. A fantasy she had only days ago - that she thought was entirely out of the realms of possibility - is literally taking place right this second.
She feels Chloe lift and throw one of her legs over her shoulder, as much to keep Max from collapsing as it is to give the mechanic better access. Chloe clearly knew how much it would help, as her tongue is now hitting every spot just right.
"Oh my god, Chloe, you're - Ah! " Max interrupts herself with a loud gasp as Chloe pulls her clit between her lips and sucks. "You're gonna make me come!"
Max can't see it, but Chloe is grinning, immensely pleased that she's guiding Max to a second orgasm so close after the first. She attacks the sensitive little bud with renewed vigour, pushing two fingers into Max again for added effect.
This time, Max screams, bucking her hips into Chloe's face.
Out of instinct, Chloe increases her pace, flicking her tongue and thrusting her fingers as fast as she can. Judging from the way Max's thigh is quivering on her shoulder, the photographer is almost there, and getting closer every second.
Then, Max throws a hand over her mouth - just so she doesn't let the entire street know what her and Chloe are doing - and grabs a handful of Chloe's hair as her orgasm hits. This time, it's far more intense, enough to make Max bite her own hand, and a gush of liquid to splatter across Chloe's fingers and chin.
For a second, Max even sees stars.
"Holy fuck. " Max gasps, when the power of speech returns.
"Max like?" Chloe grins as she returns to a standing position, and takes a trembling Max into her arms.
"Max definitely likes." She enthusiastically agrees.
"I can tell. You came, like, a shit ton." Chloe licks her lips.
"I, um. Maybe had a fantasy about that. You eating me out in the shower." Max admits.
Chloe's eyelids lower slightly. "That's real hot. Any more? Maybe we can make them come true."
Max blushes. "I kinda had one with, um…"
"Go on, you can say it." Chloe encourages her, stroking Max's hair.
"With you fucking me with your strap-on." Max finishes.
Chloe's eyes immediately widen. "I'll be right back."
"Fuck!" Max screams.
She's positioned in front of Chloe, bracing herself against the shower curtain rail, holding on for dear life as Chloe grips her hips and slams a thick purple cock into her again and again, filling the bathroom with wet smack after wet smack.
"Hng." Chloe grunts with exertion through gritted teeth. The smaller end of the strap-on is securely inside her, giving her some welcome friction against her own inner walls while she thrusts into Max.
Combined with Max's teasing from earlier, and the ludicrously hot sight of Max's ass rippling with each and every trust - Chloe can't help but give it a smack, drawing a yelp from the photographer - Chloe is inching steadily closer to coming herself.
"You feel so fucking good…" Max half says, half gasps. "Harder!" She begs, when a particularly deep thrust manages to hit places she didn't even know she has.
It's an effort, but Chloe obeys, her abdominal muscles burning with the continued effort.
Max cries out, and automatically reaches backwards to grip Chloe's hip.
Unfortunately, this coincides with a sharp thrust from Chloe. Max's one hand remaining on the curtain slips, and before she can do anything to stop herself, she falls out of the shower, landing with a thud on the bathroom floor.
"Oh shit!" Chloe exclaims. "Are you OK?"
Max blinks in shock. "I - yeah, I think so. Just a bruised ego. And maybe my butt."
Chloe still manages to look sheepish. "I don't think I could've lived it down if you broke your leg or something from me fucking you too hard."
"And I never would've let you forget it." Max teases.
Chloe pouts, but with the sizeable purple dick still jutting from in between her legs, the effect is rendered more comical than anything else, causing Max to burst into laughter.
"What?" Chloe asks.
"Nothing," Max says, still giggling, "You're just cute."
"I'll accept that.” Chloe poses for Max, hitching her hips to the side and resting a hand behind her head.
Max rolls her eyes, putting as much sarcasm into the movement as she can. “Are you gonna stop posing and come finish what you started? Meaning, me.”
“Of course, but…”
“But?”
“Maybe we should move this to the bedroom. Less chance of you falling on your ass in there.” Chloe points out.
“I only ‘fell on my ass’ because you were thrusting too hard!” Max protests.
“Uh-huh.” Chloe says, sounding very much unconvinced.
Max mock glares. “You suck.”
“No.” Chloe steps out of the shower, and bends down to Max’s level. “I fuck. ”
The next thing Max knows, Chloe’s arms are around her, and she’s being lifted off the floor by the mechanic.
“Chloe!” Max squeaks.
Chloe shuts her up with another searing kiss, which she remarkably manages to maintain while carrying Max bridal-style to the bedroom. Once into the room, she swings Max around - literally - and shoves Max up against the wall, still holding her up.
It’s a display of strength that, had she not been turned on already, would have soaked Max’s panties if she had been wearing any.
Once Max is firmly held up against the wall, Chloe lines the fake cock up with her entrance, and with one smooth motion, pushes it in once again.
Max groans, low in her throat. It’s a delicious feeling, being filled so completely by the powerful woman. Her legs automatically wrap around Chloe’s waist, pulling her in to the hilt.
“Enjoying yourself?” Comes Chloe’s voice, sounding both amused and proud.
“Duh. You’re inside me.” Max points out.
Chloe looks down, gazing at the place where their bodies are connected. “Goddamn that’s hot.” She comments.
“Agreed. Now are you gonna keep fucking me or what?”
Taking it as a challenge, Chloe growls, pulls out slightly, then slams back into Max.
Max cries out, bucking her hips into Chloe’s.
Chloe does it again, provoking the same response.
Within a few more thrusts, she’s back in her previous rhythm, pounding into Max with ferocious intensity.
“Oh … my … fuck!” Max exclaims between gasps. “Don’t you dare stop.”
“Not … planning … on it.” Chloe says, clearly making a substantial effort to maintain her pace.
She hoists Max up a little more and shifts her grip to just under Max’s butt, both for better leverage and to enable longer, harder thrusts.
Max loses herself in the rhythm, burying her head in Chloe’s shoulder as the mechanic takes her, claims her, makes Max hers.
It’s absolutely no surprise to her when she feels a familiar pressure in her abdomen, signalling the buildup of a third orgasm that feels like it’s going to be as powerful as the first two combined.
“Keep going!” She cries into Chloe’s shoulder. “Please! Make me come, Chloe, please make me come.”
Chloe lets out a strangled wail, spurred on by Max’s desperate need. Her own orgasm is tantalisingly close, just a few more thrusts and…
Max screams, loud enough to make Chloe’s ears ring, her inner walls clamping shut around the thick toy as she comes explosively.
Seconds later, Chloe follows suit. “Max!” She shouts as her own release finally, blissfully overtakes her. It’s powerful enough to make her knees buckle, dropping both of them to the floor in a tangle of limbs and sweating, heaving bodies.
“I thought ... thought you said we weren’t gonna fall on our asses?” Max says, grinning despite being caught under Chloe.
“Don’t care.” Chloe pants. “Worth it.”
“Hella worth it.” Max agrees.
Chloe grunts as she pulls the strap-on out of herself. “Seriously, that was amazing. You, are amazing.”
Max brushes sweat slick hair out of Chloe’s forehead. “I mean, technically, I didn’t do anything. You were the one fucking me. ”
Chloe shrugs. “I like topping.”
“Wait, are you saying I’m just a bottom?” Max asks, mostly joking.
“You did just say I fucked you.”
“Oh that is it.” Max jokes. “Get on the bed. Now.”
“Ooh, I definitely like Bossy Max.” Chloe says, even as she climbs onto the bed and flops down onto her back.
“You better.” Max says. She follows Chloe onto the bed, crawling seductively on all fours over the mechanic. “Because Bossy Max really wants to eat you out.”
“I’m not gonna say no to that.” Chloe bites her lip in anticipation, and spreads her legs.
Max returns the look, one corner of her mouth quirked into a dangerous looking smirk. She kisses Chloe, long and slow, before making her way down Chloe’s body. She sucks a pierced nipple into her mouth, nipping it between her teeth and drawing a pleased hum from the mechanic.
Then, she continues her path downwards, tracing her tongue along the outlines of Chloe’s abdominal muscles, until, finally, she reaches Chloe’s dripping wet sex.
Max wastes no time at all, going straight for Chloe’s clit.
“Max!” Chloe groans.
Max decides she really likes the sound of Chloe moaning her name.
Echoing what Chloe did to her earlier, Max slides a finger into Chloe, while simultaneously lavishing her clit with every talent her tongue possesses.
With this dual assault, it doesn’t take long at all for Chloe to be reduced to a series of incoherent, pleased noises. She can’t stop herself from rolling her hips in an attempt to seek out every bit of pleasure she can from Max’s tongue and finger - hip rolls that turn into sharp snaps when Max inserts a second digit.
“Max!” Chloe cries, louder this time.
Max hums, sending vibrations through her new lover’s clit.
Chloe grips the sheets, her entire body shuddering with the effect of Max’s ministrations.
Max pumps faster, determined to make Chloe feel just as much pleasure as Chloe has given her.
The movements of Chloe’s hips increase in intensity, becoming steadily more erratic and harder to predict.
Chloe is close, Max can feel it.
“I'm-” The mechanic exclaims.
Max doesn’t need to hear any more. She adds a third finger and fucks Chloe as vigorously as she can, while flicking her tongue so fast her jaw begins to ache with the effort.
“Holy fuck, MAX!” Chloe screams.
Max feels Chloe’s inner walls squeeze her fingers, so much so that any movement becomes impossible. At the same time, Chloe’s entire body becomes rigid, her muscles standing in sharp relief, edged with sweat.
It’s a sight Max won’t forget for a very long time.
Chloe’s thighs clamp around her head, preventing her from going anywhere, not that Max would want to move from in between her legs.
A splash of liquid hits Max’s face, and a single, piercing shriek tears its way out of Chloe’s throat as the mechanic rides out her release, her thighs vibrating intensely next to Max’s cheeks.
Max keeps licking, intent on prolonging Chloe’s orgasm as much as possible. Eventually though, it ends, with Chloe’s muscles relaxing, and her lungs filling with giant, shaky breaths.
Max crawls up next to her, lying beside Chloe’s shaking, sweating, flushed body.
“Oh my god.” Chloe eventually says, after a long few moments of being entirely unable to talk.
“Nice of you to call me that.” Max teases her.
“I mean, I’m pretty sure I just had a religious experience.” Chloe breathes.
“You’re welcome.” Max grins.
“Heh.” Chloe grins back. “Well-cum.”
Max raises an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Really.” Chloe winks. “Though seriously. That was amazing. The whole thing, not just the orgasm you gave me.”
“It was.” Max agrees. “This might sound weird, but, I’m so glad my car broke down. Otherwise I’d never have met you.”
“Me too.” Chloe leans in for a kiss, which Max happily gives her. “We should definitely do this again, and soon, preferably.”
“That sounds like a date to me.” Max readily agrees. “Whatever this is, I wanna keep doing it.”
“Oh I play for keeps.” Chloe rolls onto her side and draws Max close. “You ain’t getting rid of me any time soon.”
“Why would I? You keep my engine running.” Max waggles her eyebrows.
“Oh god, engine puns.” Chloe groans. “I probably deserve that.”
“You’re damn right you do.” Max giggles. “You’re my mechanic, after all, and I wanna keep it that way.”
Chloe grins again, and with a burst of energy, rolls on top of Max, pushing a thigh between Max’s legs.
“Well, if I’m gonna be your mechanic…”
Chloe captures Max’s lips, and trails a hand down her body, making her intentions abundantly clear.
“... I’mma rev your engine up to the Max.”