You drive the car into the automatic car wash; the big door closes and we're suddenly in a cave. We're finally alone, no one can see us anymore.
A hook catches onto the bottom of the car to guide it through the wash.
I guide your hands down my torso; you already have my shirt off.
Water hoses come to life, soaking the car with water; droplets run off of the car pulling dirt away with them.
I'm pulling your shirt off as you slip my skirt away from my ankles. I take off your pants and offer you my feet, which still display my red high heels, but you decide to leave them on me.
Scrubbing brushes full of soap slam up against the car, rubbing, scrubbing away anything unclean.
You slam me against the back door of your car. It's awkward shape juts painfully into me; I hardly notice. You brace my shoulders gently rubbing with your thumbs while your lips roam my neck. Your breath is hot, sweet, and heavy against my fiery skin. I'm getting lost in you.
Water hoses make a second appearance, spraying heavily, only to put on the same show.
I'm breathing so heavily I feel like I have just run a marathon. I pull your head up to my face and kiss you hard and hungrily; your hands tickle between my thighs and I breathlessly moan your name. Your fingers pause at the edge of my underwear, so I pull them up into my hair. We both know the rules. We never take everything off.
The hook pulls the car forward, still dripping, towards the blow-driers.
You lay me flat across the backseat and move between my legs, which are dripping with sweat, along with every other inch of my body and yours. I grasp your shoulders as you kiss all the way down to where my bra comes together; then you move back to my trembling lips kissing me fiercely, biting my bottom lip until it's swollen.
The blow-driers emit a steady stream of air, fanning every drop of water off of the car.
I'm fanning myself as I stare at you leaning back against the opposite door. We smile through our panting, and you hand me a towel to dry myself with: it's my favorite fluffy pink one; you always bring it for me. You towel off too, until there is no trace of me left on your body.
Giant pads scrub over the car giving it a glossy sheen with turtle wax.
It's almost over. I dress quickly and we climb back into the front seat giggling like innocent school children.
The car wash door raises, you car unhooks, and you're back on your way.
It's time to go back home. You gently hold my hand as we start the short drive back to my neighborhood. When we pull up to my house you brush my lips so softly with yours I wonder if I have just imagined it. "See you next week?"
"Of course."
Saturday afternoons at the car wash: three o' clock. It's tradition.
A/N: I tried to compare Tess and Shane to a car wash so that's why one word in Tess's piont of veiw is italicized to compare it to the actions of the actual car wash. I'm not sure how I feel about this... but I would love to hear how all of you feel! Hope to get some reviews from you guys!