Not My Fantasy

by Sam Hall

"Shut up, Ash," Jez hissed while jabbing me in the ribs with her elbow. "Sure, where do you want me?"

  I watched her saunter over and straddle the bike in a fluid movement, a couple of wolf whistles coming from the hangers-on as she slid into place. "Beautiful darlin'," the guy said and pulled out a small device, obviously measuring the light. I considered waiting for Jez, but she was perfectly capable of looking after herself. I turned and stepped away from the spotlight.

  "Where ya going, love?" A bloke with a shaggy mop of black hair, deep-brown skin and a huge grin stepped out of the small group of blokes leaning on an older black car, watching the proceedings. He had a tight black t-shirt on, stretched over an impressive chest and some worn denim jeans that fit like a glove. "The makeup girls are over there."

  "I'm not here to model, I'm looking for Gabe."

  "Gabe? You don't look like the kind of girl satisfied by a Milky Bar, you look like you need some rich, dark chocolate," he said, gesturing to his body as I looked for my guy.

  I laughed, "Dark chocolate is indeed an awesome thing, but I'm currently very happy with Milky Bar right now and need to drop his keys off."

  "Shit, you're Ash."

  "One and the same. And who are you?"

  "Shane, head mechanic. Look, if I help you find him, can you maybe not tell him about the chocolate line? He made it real clear he'd kick the arse of anyone trying to pick you up."

  "Sure, but you look like you could handle yourself."

  He puffed up like a little boy at this, but seriously, he was built like a rugby player. He took me up a staircase to a mezzanine level. "So, who's that then?" he asked, jerking his head at Jez.

  "My friend, Jez."

  "She gonna get her tits out?"

  "What? No! At least I don't think so. What kind of photos are you taking?"

  "For next year's calendar. We do a clean one for families and mixed shops and then one for the boys."

  "It's up to her."

  "Mm, that's a fine-looking woman, I wonder if she can be persuaded? Well, Milky Bar should be in there. I'm gonna go chat to Jez. Anything I should know?"

  "Ah, she's 29, a Virgo, likes her coffee black and is a practising witch."

  "I reckon I've got eight inches of black magic she could wrap her hand around."

  "Ew!"

  "She could wave it around, and I'd guarantee all manner of magical stuff would come out."

  "Ew!"

  "Well, nice meeting you. Your friend come here in her own car?"

  "Yeah, why?"

  "Easier to convince her to stay. Later."

  "Hey," I turned around to see the office door opened and Gabe in the doorway. He yanked me inside, his mouth covering mine before I'd taken two steps inside. "Missed you," he rumbled when he finally pulled away.

  "You didn't tell me you had a nudie shoot going tonight," I said.

  "I guess it didn't seem relevant. We're not sticking around for it."

  "Really, I'd have thought you'd be dying to see a bunch of models’ tits."

  "Only one lot I want to see," he said, running a hand upward.

  "Gabe!"

  "What? It's true," he kissed me lightly at the corner of my mouth, dropping light kisses from one side to the other. "Missed these lips.”

  "It looks like Jez is going to be part of your calendar," I said, pulling back slightly.

  "What?" he walked over to the window in the office that looked down on the main floor. "She knows what kind of photos they're going to end up wanting to take?" he asked, looking alarmed.

  "I'm sure she'll find out, eventually. Look, are we in any rush? Maybe we should stick around, have a drink. I just want to make sure Jez's OK."

  "Sure, I mean I had other things in mind, but if you don't want me to start by massaging your body."

  "Oh, dude. . . ."

  "Then move on to cooking you a three-course dinner."

  "You're kidding me!"

  "Then followed by a very stimulating dessert."

  "OK, you win. Jez should be fine, let's go."

  He chuckled at this and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, “Nah, you’re right. If anything happened to Jez, you'd be devastated. Anyway, it gives me a chance to introduce you to the boys."

  "Damn my big mouth," I muttered.

  "S'OK, I'll find a good use for it later."

  "Guys, this is Ash," Gabe said. He'd led me downstairs, past groups of people to a mob sitting in a semi-circle near the shed door, watching the photo shoot proceed. Jez still had her shirt on, but she was now lying sideways along the seat and fuel tank with a mysterious smile on her face as the bloke snapped off photo after photo on a high end DSLR. “Ash, this is Macca," Gabe pointed to an older guy with a long, iron-grey ponytail and a silver beard, "Shane, Mick," likewise a guy in his thirties with buzzed hair and a cheeky grin, "and where's Rick?"

  “Gone to grab a few more slabs of beer,” Macca said. "Nice to meet you, Ash."

  "Nice to meet you, too," I said, taking a seat beside Gabe on an old tyre. "So, what do you do?"

  "Bit of bogging up and grinding," the man said with a slight lift of his broad shoulders.

  "Bullshit!" Gabe said. “He’s one of the best fabricators in the business. Want a beer, love?"

  "Sure, and how about you, Cadbury? What do you do?" I looked Shane square in the face. His eyes went wide as Mick's narrowed down.

  "You're not making shitty comments about. . . ." Mick began to growl, gesturing to Shane’s dark skin.

  "What? No! It's just when we met, all Shane could talk about was chocolate."

  All of the men's eyes swivelled around to a flustered Shane, then they all burst out laughing. "Not that shitty line again, on the boss's missus!" Mick said, pounding on Shane's back.

  "Just because it looks like you've been dipping your dick in chocolate, doesn't mean it's going to taste like it if you can get 'em to put it in their mouth," Macca said with a grin.

  "I thought we had an agreement," Shane hissed.

  "You tried chatting up my girlfriend, right after I told you not to?"

  "Look, boss, I'm sorry. I didn't know. Can’t you get her to wear a bell or something?”

  Mick hit himself on the forehead. “Shane, mate, we’ve talked about this. Just because we call them pussy doesn’t mean they are actual cats.”

  “Fuck off, cunt.”

  “You know what you gotta do,” Gabe said, picking at the label on his beer, only looking up when Shane let out a long moan.

  “Get up, ya prick,” Mick said, giving him a shove.

  “Maybe we should let him pick his own song this time,” Macca said, “though he did a stand-up version of “I’ll Always Love You” when he forgot the beer that time.”

  “Ricky’s here!” Mick said with a grin. “Let her choose.”

  Her? I turned around to see a woman dressed in the same blue overalls. She carried a slab of beer on one shoulder. “The others are in the ute,” she said, flicking the keys to Mick. She opened one end with practised ease, handing a beer to Macca, Shane, Gabe and then she turned to me.

  She was pretty, I realised, really pretty. The sides of her head were shaved, but she had long tawny locks falling in a messy tangle, strands partially covering a pair of bright-green eyes. Green eyes that widened when they saw me flicked from Gabe to me and back again several times. The guys weren’t noticing, focussed as they were on whatever punishment they had planned for Shane. She swallowed hard and then forced herself to smile, holding out a beer and saying, “Hey, I’m Rickie-Lee.”

  “Shit, sorry, Rick. This is Ash, my girlfriend.”

  “A girlfriend who is going to have the dubious pleasure of watching Shane-o get his gear off,” Macca said, flicking through a playlist with a grin.

  “Seriously, again? I’m starting to think there’s an ulterior motive here, mate.” Shane grumbled.

  “Off you go. Make yourself pretty,” Macca said.

  Shane looked over his shoulder at Jez who now arched her back, hands gr
asping the handlebars and then grinned. “Pump the song through the PA system.”

  The guys started to cackle at this. Mick had come back with the beer, so he went over to the massive speakers near the mezzanine steps and started to fiddle with the MP3 player hooked up to it. They don’t realise, I thought as Ricky took a long swallow of her beer then rolled a cigarette with practised hands. She looked over as Shane crossed the floor, opening a big black chest and pulling out what looked like fancy dress. She smiled briefly as he began shimmying into what looked like a little stretchy skirt. She tried to keep her eyes away from him, keep them on the other guys, what was going on in the shed, even me , but sure enough, before long they strayed back to Gabe, lingering there as if trying to memorise every inch of him.

  “C’mon bitch, get the show on the road,” Gabe said, getting to his feet. “Lance, take a break, get the other girls ready. Shaney doesn’t last that long, anyway.”

  “That’s not what your mum said,” he snapped back, stepping into the floodlight.

  “You forgot something, mate,” Mick said, appearing beside him with a perilously high pair of lucite heels.

  “Shit, he’s going to break his neck if he puts them on,” I said, frowning as Shane struggled to get his broad feet into the shoes.

  “Don’t worry about Shane,” Gabe said, sitting down beside me and slinging an arm around me.

  “He’s got this shit down pat,” Macca said.

  “Seriously, don't worry about him,” Gabe said, looking into my eyes, looking for . . . what I didn’t know.

  “OK, go about your weird bloke rituals.” Gabe’s arm relaxed around my shoulders and he started to crack up as Shane made a show of walking in the shoes, wobbling cartoonishly on them. Jez turned, searching the crowd and then seeing me.

  She dismounted from the bike, about to come over when Shane said, “Nah love, you’re part of my act. Slide back on that bike for me.” She just took him all in, from the high heels and skirt to the tight t-shirt, starting to smile when she saw how well it stretched over his well-defined biceps. She leaned up against the bike, arms crossed and looked expectant.

  “C’mon Shane-o, you fucking pussy!” someone yelled from the now gathering crowd.

  “Put the fucking song on,” Shane muttered, shaking his arms, then legs out like he was a flash dancer about to perform. The slow grinding sounds of a stripper song rang out through the workshop to the roars of approval of the crowd.

  Jez smirked as Shane stalked over to her, surprisingly well on the high heels, I couldn’t do it without tripping, but he could. He ran his fingers up his thighs and across his chest in time with the music, grabbing the hem of his shirt and whipping it off in one movement, tossing it over his shoulders. Jez’s eyes went wide and a spurt of much more feminine shouts and whistles went up around the crowd. She openly ogled the broad expanse of ripped muscle, reaching out to touch almost involuntarily, before pulling her hand back.

  “My body says yes, as my mind says no,” the song said as he caressed a hand over his abs.

  “Pretty sure all parts of him are saying yes,” Mick grumbled. “This is a shit punishment. He gets laid every damned time.”

  “Yeah, but this way less people get put in hospital,” Macca said.

  “Disputes used to get settled the old way,” Gabe explained to me, “by punching on. We started a dare system, where the party in the wrong has to do something embarrassing at the other's orders. Reduced the amount of sick leave used by about 70%.”

  “Oh, God!” I said when I looked back.

  “Let’s take it slower

  As your hand goes lower,” the song went. Jez now had her hand down Shane’s skirt and was evidently following the singer’s instructions. He crushed his hand over hers and thrust his hips violently against her. Jez’s smiled was curving upwards. Apparently, she was happy with what she’d summoned.

  “Don’t look at that dickhead,” Gabe said, pushing my chin with his finger, so our eyes locked. “S’why I didn’t want to stick around. Things get crazy here.”

  “You gotta admit, it’s pretty funny. And disturbing, very disturbing. How does a mechanic get quite so adept at walking in the heels like that?”

  Gabe closed the gap between us, his lips slightly rough on mine. I forgot all about Jez, Shane and the song as he pulled me closer, groaning deep in his chest. I tangled my hands in the soft mass of his hair, leaning in further to make more contact.

  “Fuck! What’s Rick doing?” Macca asked.

  We pulled apart, eyes blinking, panting slightly to see Ricky stalk over to the dress up box and pull out a gorgeous pair of black stilettos. Who around here bought the supplies for the dress up box? I wondered. Whistles and catcalls rang out as she pulled off the overalls, revealing a pair of worn skinny leg jeans and a white wife-beater. She fiddled with the MP3 player, stopping the song, not that Shane and Jez noticed. She hadn’t removed her hand and he looked like he really didn’t want her to. The song had changed to something a little more up tempo and Ricky stomped her way over to the bike, in time to the music, like some kind of model.

  “Fucking crazy bitch,” Gabe said with a laugh. “Lance! Take some shots!”

  The photographer circled as Ricky stalked over, pushing between the two of them, shoving them away with the flat of her hands. Shane staggered, trying to maintain his balance, but Jez fell back against the bike. Ricky was straight onto her, the camera whirring as the photographer took shot after shot of Jez and Ricky, groin to the groin, breasts just brushing the other’s, lips close enough to almost kiss.

  She snapped away, moving to Shane now, pulling him closer by his belt buckle, then turning and dropping down, her mouth almost trailing along Jez’s jeans-clad thigh as her arse came to rest on Shane’s groin. I jerked as I felt a familiar rasp of Gabe’s lips along my neck.

  “Gabe, Ricky’s gone nuts, you gotta have a look!” Mick said.

  “Who knew she was hiding that under her overalls?” Macca said, looking almost alarmed.

  “Mm-hmm,” Gabe said, moving to the other side, then pulling me over, so I was in his lap. He pulled my hair up, holding it as his lips moved down my spine. I shivered at the contact and his arm clamped down on my lap, pressing me harder against him. “We gotta go, love,” he said.

  I saw the moment Ricky looked over to see if Gabe was watching. She faltered slightly as Shane was grinding on her butt, her hands slipping away from where they were tangled in Jez’s hair. Her lips looked bee-stung and so did Jez’s. The photographer looked like he couldn’t believe his luck, scrolling through the images on the viewfinder. Ricky just stood there, frozen, blinking, her eyes searching for Gabe, but unable to find him as he very enthusiastically explored my back. My heart squeezed when I saw it, the involuntary widening and shine in her eyes, the head dropped in defeat.

  “Go back in for another kiss,” Lance said, “and Shane, either ditch the skirt or get out of frame. You’re ruining my shots.” Shane had all girl clothes off in a second, padding over to between the two women and grabbing them to bring them in close. Ricky obediently was drawn into the embrace, bringing a heartbreaking vulnerability to the shot that probably didn’t meet the brief. “Sultry, Ricky. Imagine he’s your fantasy lover,” the photographer said. Ricky looked up at Shane for a moment, then when she looked back her face was almost a mask of lust, authentic or not.

  “Let’s go,” I agreed with Gabe, getting to my feet.

  “Finally, the smell of your hair is driving me crazy. So sweet. . . .” he grabbed me and pulled me closer, burying his face in it.

  “I just need to talk to Jez first. Here’s your keys, you want to take the bike or come with me?”

  “You.”

  He went to go start the car as I approached Jez. “You decide you want dark anyway?” Shane asked with a purr, opening his arms wider. “Plenty to go around.” Jez shook her head as if clearing it, taking in the crowd and Ricky and Shane and looking a bit alarmed.

  “You OK Jez? I�
�m going to head off.”

  Her eyes flicked to the other two and back to me, as if assessing the situation for the first time. “Stay,” Shane said in a much more reasonable tone, “We’ll have a ball. No pressure. We were just stuffing around here. Let me get you a drink.”

  Jez shrugged, “OK, just one. I’ll catch you tomorrow, Ash.”

  “Well, you’ve got my number, just give me a call if you have any hassles.” The two of them wandered off, leaving Ricky standing in the bright light. The photographer frowned, “Are you two going to have a go now? If so, move in a bit closer.”

  “No,” I said, hands held up.

  “What’s up?” Gabe asked, rushing over, eyes flashing. He put his huge body between me and the photographer. “Ash is not to go in any of the photos, you hear? Anything with her in it, I pull the whole contract.”

  “Fine, fine,” Lance said. “What about you, girl?” he asked Ricky. “You’ve got nice tits.”

  She looked back at us, eyes burning and then in a couple of quick movements pulled her top and then her bra off. The shed erupted in hoots and howls.

  “Fuck, Rick, you sure about this?” was all Gabe asked. He didn’t look concerned or even interested, just mildly surprised.

  She didn’t answer, turning to face the photographer with a smouldering gaze. He started clicking, not willing to wait until her mood changed.

  We left after that, heading to Gabe’s place where he made good on most of his plans, though he had to go with spag bol rather than three-course dinner, due to lost time. It was lovely, but I couldn't get Ricky out of my mind.

  “So, did you have something going on with Ricky at some point?” I asked as we let dinner settle, sitting in front of the TV.

  "Rick? A long time ago, maybe when we were kids, but none of us were going to go there when she came to work for us.”

  "Did you guys grow up together?"

  "Kinda. Same school and her brother, Brett, was my best mate. Anyway, what's all this about? You jealous?" He grinned at this.

  "No, it's just–"

  “Because you don't have to be. Always been a one-woman bloke, too hard trying to keep a couple on the go. While you’re keen to keep this going, you'll have no concerns from me."