A Mechanic's Desire

She cruised along the less busy street, her car windows wound up and the air conditioner on full blast. A soft music wafted from the stereo and she nodded to the rhythm, trying to relax and get her thoughts under control. And also gather the courage to do what she had to do.

She had doubts, including a nerve-wracking nervousness. She gnawed at her lower lip and her knuckles ached from her tight grasp on the car steering.

"I shouldn't be doing this," she muttered to herself. T.K. may be an ass but I'm better than this..I'm better." She inhaled deeply and let out a gust of air with her mouth open. "But I've come this far. I can't go back now. I must do this for me." She relaxed her grip on the steering, her knuckles had begun to hurt. She looked around her, if she could find a man. The kind of man she was looking for.

She had passed several young men on the road, some were good looking and wanted. Lack of exercises and the right diet had turned most of them unfit; lacking the athletic build she wanted, the type of body suitable for her intention. If she was going to do this, she needed to find the perfect body type. If she planned to eat a frog, she better go for a fat juicy one, bursting with eggs. She was also on the lookout for a man that lacked too much confidence the over inquisitive or know-it-all type that would ask too many questions, probe, prod or pry. She wanted the quiet type, even the low esteemed kind that wouldn't poke-nose.

As she slowed down to avoid a porthole, her car jerked; it spluttered and jerked again. She was confused. What had happened to the car? It lurched and stopped. "What is it now?" she asked the empty car. "I don't need this now."

It was embarrassing. She hated it. To be stopped in the middle of the road at a time like this.

Her purpose of driving around that suburban area this morning dissolved like it was never there. She became worried as she stepped down from the car after trying fruitlessly to restart it.

Few people passed in their own cars, ignoring her predicament. Some of them looked glad that she was in that fix, after all she was a rich bitch. So she deserved to suffer.

A young man jogged across the road to where she stood staring at the car and trying to shield her face from the sun with her hand. She heaved a sigh when she noticed he was attired like a mechanic. She had wanted to call someone to come and pick the car but seeing the man she stopped.

„Your car get problem?‟ the young man asked her in passable English.

„Are you a mechanic?‟ she asked him, though she wasn‟t supposed to bother with that. It wasn‟t her responsibility to repair the car.

„Yes ma. Make I check am, maybe na small problem.‟ He opened the hood and fiddled with the engines while she stood there watching him.

She deliberately looked him over, and liked what she saw. Despite his grubby work garb he was handsome. His smooth skin shone with raw youthful health. His honey complexion gleamed in the late afternoon sunlight. He was tall and full-bodied, taut with rippling muscles underneath his cloth. He had neatly defined striking features with a ready and almost shy smile. He was also courteous. She liked him instantly.

This was what she was looking for.

„Where is your mechanic shed?‟ she asked him, deciding to take care of the rented car by herself.

„There,‟ he pointed at a place under a huge tree where assorted cars in different degrees of repairs were scattered around the place.

„Can you take the car there and bring it to me when you are through?‟ she asked him. He looked up at her, puzzled. She could trust him with her car?

„I don‟t like the sun,‟ she explained. „I would rather wait in my hotel room until it is ready.‟

„Where is de place?‟he asked her.

She wrote down the address of her hotel and handed the paper to him. „Please stop a taxi for me.‟

He quickly did what she asked. She tossed him the car key and entered the taxi.

She got back to her hotel room and showered. She applied her cream, massaging her skin slowly and touching herself tenderly, imagining that she was with the young mechanic, that his hands were her hands as she touched herself, running her palms all over her body. She also imagined his hand would be rough against her velvety skin. She deliberately psyched herself up to be ready for him. She needed to enjoy this. For this to work she must revel in it; relish every moment, like sucking out a juicy marrow from a bone after devouring a plate of sumptuous meat pepper soup.

She planned to be an active participant, instructing him on what she wanted from him and how to accomplish them; she was going to be dominant if necessary. T.K. had used her. She wanted to use someone else and exert her revenge. If she didn't do this thing she planned to do here in Zaria, she was going to go back home and continue living in regrets and sorrow. The house would become her prison. She needed to create a memory far separated from what she had now. A wicked secret to give her a sort of independence. She planned to cut herself loose from a life she was forced to live. She needed to surprise or even shock herself. Imagining what T.K. would think if he knew what she was about to do, thrilled her to no end. He might kill her, but that made it more thrilling.

She selected a seductive gown among several she had bought for that purpose. It was red, very short and silky. The neckline came quite low and she wore a red satin push-up bra that showed off the mound of her breasts to advantage. She applied some make-up, going a tad heavy on her red lipstick, she was playing the whore tonight. By the time the guy brought the car she was well psyched-up and ready for him.