The sun was a merciless bastard, beating down on the cracked asphalt of the nowhere gas station like it had a personal vendetta. Skyler’s cherry-red convertible purred to a stop at the pump, its glossy paint a stark contrast to the rusted, peeling signage that read “Last Chance Fuel & Grub.” She slid out of the driver’s seat, her stiletto heels clicking with authority on the pavement, her curves practically daring the world to look away. A tight leopard-print tank top hugged her generous chest, and her denim shorts were so tiny they might as well have been a suggestion. She tossed her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder, popping a bubble of pink gum with a loud *snap* as she surveyed the dump before her.
“Christ on a cracker, this place looks like it lost a fight with a tornado,” she muttered to herself, wrinkling her nose at the faint stench of gasoline and despair. Her stomach growled, but the thought of eating anything from the shack labeled “Grub” made her reconsider starvation as a lifestyle. First things first, though—she needed to pee. Badly. Slinging her oversized purse over her shoulder, she strutted toward the grimy building, her hips swaying like she was on a catwalk instead of a cracked sidewalk.
The restroom door creaked open with a groan that sounded like it was begging for mercy. The inside was worse than she’d imagined. The air was thick with the rancid aroma of mildew and something unidentifiable but deeply offensive. Flickering fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sickly green glow on the stained tiles. Skyler’s lips curled in disgust as she held her breath, her eyes darting to the single stall. “If I catch hepatitis in here, I’m suing the entire state,” she grumbled, kicking the stall door open with the tip of her heel.
She settled onto the seat—if you could call the cracked, cold porcelain that—with the grace of a queen on a throne, though she hovered just enough to avoid actual contact. “Disgusting,” she hissed under her breath, digging through her purse for a tissue to lay down as a pathetic barrier. That’s when she noticed it. A hole in the wall, right at eye level, crudely cut and jagged around the edges, like someone had taken a hammer to it in a fit of desperation. Her perfectly arched brows shot up, a smirk tugging at her glossy lips.
“Oh, honey, no. This ain’t that kind of establishment… or is it?” she mused aloud, her voice dripping with amusement. She leaned forward, inspecting the hole with the curiosity of a cat about to pounce. “What kinda freak show we got going on here?”
As if on cue, something moved on the other side. Skyler froze, her breath catching for a split second before her instincts kicked in. She wasn’t the type to scare easy. And then, there it was—a massive, unwashed black cock sliding through the hole, bold as brass, like it owned the damn place. It was thick, veiny, and glistening with a sheen that told her hygiene wasn’t high on its owner’s priority list. Most women would’ve screamed, bolted, or at least flinched. Not Skyler. Her green eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned back, crossing her arms under her chest to push her cleavage up even more.
“Well, well, well,” she drawled, her voice low and sultry, laced with a sharp edge. “What do we have here? Somebody’s feeling brave, huh? Or just stupid. You really think I’m gonna play with that nasty thing without a hazmat suit?”
A low, gravelly chuckle rumbled from the other side of the wall, the sound muffled but undeniably cocky. “Thought you looked like the type who ain’t afraid of a little dirt, sweetheart. Come on, don’t act shy now.”
Skyler’s laugh was sharp enough to cut glass. “Oh, sugar, I ain’t shy. I’m just picky. And right now, I’m lookin’ at something that needs a power wash and a prayer. You got a name, or do I just call you Filthy McGee?”
Another chuckle, deeper this time. “Call me whatever you want, baby girl, long as you’re talkin’ to me. Saw you strut in here like you own the place. Figured you might wanna take a ride on somethin’ real.”
She rolled her eyes, popping her gum again with an exaggerated *snap*. “Boy, please. I don’t ride anything that looks like it’s been marinating in a swamp. You got some nerve, stickin’ that thing through a wall like it’s a damn VIP pass. What’s next, you gonna ask me to swipe right on it?”
“Shit, if I had a phone, I’d make you swipe all damn day,” the voice shot back, smooth and unapologetic. “But I’m right here, flesh and blood. Why don’t you come closer and see what you’re missin’?”
Skyler tilted her head, her smirk widening as she tapped a manicured nail against her chin. “Oh, I see plenty, and I’m already underwhelmed. You think just ‘cause you’re packin’ some heat, I’m gonna drop to my knees in this cesspool of a bathroom? Honey, I’ve got standards taller than the Empire State. You wanna play with me, you gotta earn it.”
There was a pause, and she could almost feel the guy on the other side grinning. “Damn, girl, you got a mouth on you. I like that. What’s it gonna take to get you to stop talkin’ and start touchin’?”
She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a husky purr, but her words were pure venom. “First, you’re gonna scrub that thing ‘til it shines like a new penny. Second, you’re gonna beg me real nice, ‘cause I don’t do charity work. And third, you better pray I’m in a generous mood, ‘cause right now, I’m more likely to slap it than stroke it.”
A groan came through the wall, half frustration, half arousal. “You’re a hard one, ain’t you? Bet you got every man in a hundred miles wrapped around that pretty little finger.”
“Damn right I do,” she fired back, standing up and adjusting her shorts with a deliberate slowness, knowing he could probably hear every move. “And I don’t unwrap for just anybody. You wanna keep playin’ this game, big boy, you better step up. I’m not some backwoods floozy who’s gonna swoon over a dirty dick in a gas station glory hole.”
She heard a sharp intake of breath, and the appendage twitched slightly, as if her words alone had an effect. “Fuck, woman, you’re killin’ me. Gimme a chance. I’ll clean up real nice for you. Just say the word.”
Skyler smirked, slinging her purse back over her shoulder as she prepared to leave the stall. “The word is ‘maybe.’ You got one shot to impress me, and right now, you’re batting zero. I’ll be out there pumpin’ gas. If you’ve got the balls to show your face—and a bar of soap—maybe we’ll talk. If not, keep your little surprise party in your pants where it belongs.”
With that, she pushed the stall door open, her heels clicking loudly as she strutted out of the restroom, leaving the mystery man behind the wall to stew in her words. The tension hung heavy in the air, a charged current of dominance and desire that she knew damn well how to wield. Skyler didn’t look back, but she could feel the heat of his frustration through the wall, and it made her smile. She was in control, and she’d be damned if anyone thought otherwise.
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