Floodlights illuminated the car lot. Some visitors wandered the rows of new and used autos and trucks, but most folk huddled in a circle around the peculiar sight of three people standing motionless with one hand against a new silver pickup, as if the trio were in a trance or somehow attached to the vehicle. The crowd maintained an eerie silence, murmuring comments, shuffling back and forth, moving sometimes to get another view, but always careful to move quietly. They behaved deferentially to the strange spectacle before them.

Two new visitors showed no such reverence. In dark, conservative clothes more formal than the relaxed clothing of the foot traffic in the lot, a man and woman moved to the inner circle of the spectators. Quickly they inspected the scene before moving to a cameraman that the rest of the crowd ignored. Words were exchanged and he pointed to a small RV nearby. The pair went there next, leaving behind the truck and the three people touching it.

At the RV they knocked and announced themselves. A middle-aged man in a knit polo shirt, the bulge of his stomach straining to pull the shirt out from his blue jeans, exited the camper. "Oh, thank God you're here. I'm Alex Misky." He extended his hand.

"Agent Gerald Maytag," the man said as he shook hands. Maytag wore short brown hair brushed neatly, the hint of a suntan on his clean shaven face. He stood six foot, trim, and though not a physically imposing presence he gave the impression of command.

"Agent Heather Stanton," the woman introduced herself. She looked somewhat younger with a pale complexion, dark hair worn up in a bun, and arresting blue eyes. She was shorter than the man but high heels made up some of the difference.

Misky nodded. "Like I said on the phone this here is a tricky kind of situation."

"I don't know that there's anything tricky about it," Maytag said. "You told us you had information for us about the I-Spy case, but that you would only give it to us here." The I-Spy case involved some illegal spy cam video being shipped across state lines. Maytag and Stanton's investigation had gone cold until Alex Misky called them earlier that day.

"That's right," Misky said. "I do have information for you, but I need a favor from you first."

"Mr. Misky," Stanton began, "the FBI is doing you a favor by sending us here as you requested. Normally we don't fly on short notice just for a tip. Now you want us to run some kind of errand as well?"

"Trust me," Misky said. "This isn't just a tip. I'm gonna give you the I-Spy guy in a neat little package. I can't wait for someone to take him out." Alex Misky ran Hardbody Haven, producer of T&A videos and softcore porn. I-Spy represented a real threat - much the same material, only with the added element of hidden surveillance, and missing the element of paying the models.

Maytag and Stanton knew all that. "Sounds like we're already doing you a favor," she said.

"Why wouldn't you have just given us this information before?" Maytag asked.

Misky shrugged. "Bad precedent, having the FBI shut somebody down. Maybe next time somebody decides my videos should be off the market."

"Now you're willing to help in exchange for a favor?" Maytag pressed.

"Let's just say I feel like being a good citizen now," Misky said. Or that getting two favors was worth getting in bed with the Feds. He left that unsaid.

"All right," Maytag said. "We're listening."

Misky took a deep breath. "You ever hear of 'Hands on a Hardbody'?"

"Sounds like one of your videos," Stanton said.

"I thought so, too," he said. He sounded almost flattered. "But it's a contest. You get a bunch of people together with a car and let them all get a hand on it. The car is the hardbody. If you take your hand off the car, you're out of the contest. Last one touching it wins.

"Anyway, I liked the idea. We run contests on the Web site for members all the time. I thought we could do something like that with a Hardbody Haven twist. So I called up some auto dealers and radio stations until I found one that went for the idea."

"What's the twist?" Maytag asked.

"We opened up the contest only to members of the Haven Web site. The twist is in addition to getting the car, the winner gets to have sex with two Hardbody Haven girls."

"Cute," Stanton said.

Misky smiled appreciatively. "We really think alike," he said. "Great idea, right? The site gets exposure, the guys get a helluva lot to go for, I get all kinds of video out of it, and I don't even pay for the car. The radio station and the dealership took care of that end. Got about a thousand new members from this deal."

"It seems you had it all planned perfectly," Maytag said. "What's the problem?" he asked, intrigued.

A dejected look overcame Misky's face. "We got a ringer out there."

"What?" Stanton asked.

"A ringer," Misky repeated. "A regular pro. This guy just goes around to these events in shopping malls and used car lots or wherever, and does this all the time. His name is Neil Klein, he's the thin one with the mop of black curls on his head. He's damn good, too. He can go days. Wins the cars and sells them for money."

"Did he sneak into the contest?" Maytag asked.

"Kind of," Misky said. "He joined up on the site all right, he just figured out a way to stuff our online ballot box. I almost fired our Web guy over this, but he's a smart kid and he'll learn from this mistake. So technically it's fair. No contract violation."

"Are you worried about him not performing at the end?" Stanton asked.

"No, I think he loves that idea. The guy is a skinny little freak. Still lives with his parents, I heard. This is probably the best chance he'll ever get for this kind of sex. That's not the real problem."

"Then what is the real problem?" Maytag asked.

"He's too damn good!" Misky yelled. "I thought this would take twenty four hours, at the most. Instead, I'm paying a cameraman and two models to sit around just to be ready for the big moment."

"You can't send them home and film the guy later?" Stanton asked.

"No," Misky said. "The dealer and the radio station want the girls here. They've been on the flatbed of the truck dancing, taking pictures with spectators, doing the wet T-shirt thing, whatever. They're on break now but we'll be back in full swing when the radio morning show starts tomorrow and again for the drive-home crew. I'm renting this camper, spending money on food, and unbelievable amounts of sunscreen. I gotta have my head examined for bringing a redhead out here for this stunt.

"It has been two days, and he's not even near his record. We lost a lot of others quickly, but I can't count on the others dropping out so soon now. He seems to make them better. They're starting to pick up his technique. If he goes, they'll drop like dominoes, I'm sure of it. Otherwise, this thing could go days. And the dealer and radio station don't care because their costs are fixed. In fact, the longer this goes, the better for them."

"Precisely the opposite of your expenses and objectives," Maytag said.

"Exactly," Misky agreed.

"So what do you want from us?" Stanton asked.

"Get him out of this contest. Check his records, arrest him for something. Shoot the bastard for all I care. Just get him out, and in return I'll give you the I-Spy case on a platter."

*

Neil Klein pressed his palm flat on the fender and smiled. This was going to be the sweetest one yet. Better than the minivan at the Mall of America, better than the $40,000 SUV in Virginia. Better even than the Mustang and he actually drove that thing around for a year. Of course that was a banner year, when the whole idea of these contests spread out but before people knew what they were doing. That year was almost six figures. He easily snuck in contests then, too.

Now, dealers made it impossible for anyone but locals to get in. They were also starting to trade names of pros. No one wanted to be taken by the Klein-man, anymore. It was getting to be real work to avoid doing regular work.

Expenses were bad now, too. Jeff was looking for more money, the moron. He would still be wiping cars dry at the Sergeant Sparkle car wash if not for Neil. Running around in olive drab combat fatigues and white gloves like the horse's ass, working all day with Nicaraguans, Nigerians and fuck all else from whatever diseased illiterate countries they came from. All Jeff had to do was take care of the K-man. Rub his feet, prepare his special health shakes, wake him up from naps during the breaks. Didn't exactly take a degree and wasn't worth even the 20% share. No way was that dickwad pinching Neil for any more.

That was for later. For now, Neil needed Jeff to do his job like a good boy. He spotted Jeff in the crowd and signaled to him: shake at the break. He watched as his brain dead assistant ran off.

That break would be in an hour. For now, Neil just loved being in the zone, losing his mind in the monotony of it all. As much as he liked looking at those trailer trash sluts in their bikinis, practically flashing their junk in those dental floss suits, it was better when they weren't around. He could lose himself and let time melt.

He wore his black Terminator outfit, complete with the wrap around shades. It was a complete psych-out for these fucking losers to see the K-Man ready to blow them away. His black cap had the words "Hands Up!" embroidered in silver letters. Amazing how something simple like that actually triggered people to lift both palms around day three or four. Jack-offs. Neil Klein was the master of this game, and there was no way these masturbating porn hounds were going to beat him this time around. Not with those cum dumpsters waiting at the end of the rainbow. Their asses would soon belong to Neil, just like the truck they rode in on.

*

"That's him," Misky pointed out Klein from a safe distance. They watched as he flashed a hand in the air, the one not flat against the truck. A young man acknowledged with an OK sign and ran off.

"What was that about?" Stanton asked.

"Oh, that," Misky replied. "Seems the twerp has an assistant. That was what tipped me off in the first place. A couple of other guys brought buddies, but no one was as organized as those two. His name is Jeff Streeter. He talked to me at first, but then Neil gave him a gag order, now he won't even look at me straight."

"What does Streeter do?" Maytag asked.

"As far as I can tell he's like a corner man. Gives him water, rubs him down, wakes him up if he takes a nap during break."

"How often are breaks?" Stanton asked.

"One fifteen minute break every four hours. There's one coming up at 10:00."

Maytag watched his partner. He knew that look. "What are you thinking, Stanton?"

"I'm thinking I want to talk to Jeff," she said. "Maytag, you find out what you can about this guy and I'll call you or meet you back at the RV."

"Anything I can do?" Misky asked. "If not I need to get to my hotel room. Girls won't let me stay in the RV with them."

Stanton pulled a hairpin from behind her head and shook out her long dark hair. "Just go to the hotel and sit tight. We'll handle this from here."

*

Jeff started the engine of the car. He plugged the blender into the power adapter lodged in the outlet for the cigarette lighter. After dropping the first few vegetables in and turning the blender on, he looked up absentmindedly. He saw a silhouette a woman in a skirt and heels, long hair flowing behind her, approaching him. A long shadow preceded her, as she was backlit by the lights of the car lot. He stepped out of the car and noticed that the shadow followed a direct line to his feet. She was walking directly toward him.

She kept getting closer, and Jeff could see she was pretty, too. He wondered what she was doing over here away from the crowd, and then she was standing right in front of him. He froze. This wasn't part of the standard contest routine.

"Nice blender," she said.

Jeff had forgotten all about it. He raced to it and turned it off before burning out the small motor.

"You're Jeff Streeter, right?" she asked.

"Yes," he said, confused. She really was a babe. How did she know who he was. And why did she want to talk to him?

"I'm Heather Stanton," she said, extending her hand. She wanted Jeff to touch her? This was getting just bizarre. He shook her hand automatically, without thinking. She kept talking. "I was hoping I could ask you some questions about Neil."

"Oh," Jeff said. That explained it. It was Neil she was interested in. Figured. "What do you want to know?"

"What it is you do for him, how he does so well at these things."

Jeff appraised her again. "Did Ling send you?" Ling was another pro, new to the scene with one win to his credit, but not head-to-head with Neil. The ranks were thin, but the competition fierce. Neil would not want Jeff to speak with an opponent.

"No, I don't know any Ling. Mr. Misky told me about you."

"Oh," Jeff said again.

"Don't worry, I'm not with the contest."

"Like a reporter," Jeff offered.

"An investigator," Stanton corrected him slightly.

"So what do you want to know?"

"Like I said, how you help Neil win."

"I wouldn't say I help Neil win," Jeff said. "I help him not fall out early. It's all Neil really, the guy is a machine. Smart, too. He knows how to get in people's heads."

"But you must be a big help for him to want you around," Stanton said.

"I do what I can."

"Like make him margaritas?" Stanton pointed to the blender.

"No," Jeff laughed. "Alcohol is the last thing he needs. That's the start of a power shake - a good mix of carbos and protein, and of course water for hydration."

"Do you cook food, too?"

"I can't cook and we have no equipment for that. But maybe I'll run and get him something if he asks."

"Anything else?"

"I wake him up if he takes a quick nap. Plus he gets tired so I'll give him a rubdown or massage his feet."

"Really?" Stanton said with genuine surprise. "That's some dedication. Neil must sing your praises."

Jeff snickered again.

"You mean he doesn't appreciate that kind of effort?" Stanton asked.

"No, he appreciates it," Jeff said quickly. "I'm sure he does. It's just that the contest is stressful. It takes a lot out of him and he's under stress during the breaks."

"Ah," Stanton said. "So he can be short with you, sometimes."

"Sometimes. Plus he's a perfectionist. Probably why he wins, right?"

"Right," Stanton agreed. "Still it must be stressful on you, too. I mean, you must get tired."

"Sure, but I can sleep hours at a time. Neil only gets fifteen minutes."

"And Neil doesn't get a bed," Stanton conceded.

"I don't get a bed either. I sleep here in the car. We can't afford a hotel room."

"But you earn money this way, and Neil pays you," Stanton argued.

"I get a share of the money, sure."

"I see."

"It's not bad. Practically the same as what I got at the car wash, plus I get to travel and see the country. I get a lot of free time between contests, too in case I want to work odd jobs."

"I guess 50% isn't bad at all for all the work," Stanton said. She guessed there was no way Neil gave Jeff half the proceeds.

"Oh, I don't get that much! It's fair though, Neil does all the work."

"Looks to me like Neil stands around and you do all the work to keep him going. You're easily worth half. I mean. look at you, you're exhausted. When was the last time you slept?"

"I've been up all day. Don't worry, though, I'll get Neil his shake for this break and then I'll catch a few hours of shuteye."

"It seems a shame for you to spend it out here in the cold. I'm covering the contest. Why not use my room while I'm here watching?"

"Oh, I couldn't do that. Neil needs me."

"Oh, he won't even notice. You said you would be sleeping anyway. I'll even call you at the hotel to wake you. I'm going back there right now, I'll give you a lift."

"Neil needs his shake," Jeff said.

"Just mix it, I'm sure he can find it on his own."

"I'm not sure about this," Jeff said.

"What's wrong?" Stanton asked, batting her eyelashes. "You don't trust me?"

"No," he said. "I mean I do. You look -- I mean you seem very nice."

"So fix the shake and let's go."

Jeff did just that, giving Stanton just enough time to call information, find the nearest motor lodge, and get herself a room. When he got out of the car and wiped off his hands, they were all set to go.

*

Inside the motel room, Jeff flopped onto the bed with a heavy thud. Stanton went to the bathroom to check her appearance, and then pour a glass of water into one of the disposable plastic cups. She drank one and refilled it, bringing it back to Jeff.

"Here you are," she said. "Must be nice having someone take care of you for a change."

"Thanks," he said. "Yeah, it's a little different."

Stanton sat on the bed next to his legs. Her skirt rose well above her knee as she sat and she did not bother to adjust it. "Kick off your shoes," she told him. Jeff did as told. Stanton traced a fingernail on his white tube sock. "Anyone ever rub down your feet after a tough day out there?"

"Not really," Jeff answered.

"Seems like you get the short end of the deal," she said as she began to knead one foot and then the other. Her hands felt strong and skilled to Jeff. His eyes closed in response and his head rested back on the pillows. Stanton kept rubbing. "That's it, just relax. Take it easy."

Her plan was working, Jeff was starting to nod off. She could then leave him behind and work with Maytag on what to do next with Neil's support system out of the way. She lessened the pressure on his feet to let him fall into slumber. Only just as Jeff started to doze, he stood up with a jolt. "Oh! I'm drifting off. If I sleep I'll be out all night. Neil needs me."

"Neil is fine," Stanton said. She increased the grip on his foot both holding him and trying to relax him at the same time.

"No really, I need to go," Jeff said dutifully.

Time to change tactics, Stanton thought. Which was fine with her. Jeff was a cute kid, and definitely sweet. She felt bad using him, but Neil seemed to have no problem doing so. "Stay here for a while," she cooed. She moved her leg so that the skirt hiked up more and revealed the tops of her stockings. If he was at all a red blooded heterosexual man with any experience of women's underwear, first hand or otherwise, he should have recognized the sight of that darker band of hose, the promise of the end of the nylon stocking and the presence of bare flesh just above.

Jeff did guess at the promise of skin. He swallowed. "No, really," he protested perhaps too late.

"Jeff, let me ask you something, Neil gives you a percentage of the winnings right? So he gives you, what, a third of a car?"

"No," he said, surprised at the question. "We sell the car. He gives me my share of the money." He didn't want to tell this beautiful woman, who also seemed pretty smart, that he only got 20% of the money.

"So how does he intend to split up the winnings this time?" Stanton dropped his foot now. Puzzling him would hold him here as well as gripping him. She slid up the bed closer to his face.

"Same as always, I guess."

Stanton lowered her voice to the sexy level of pillow talk. "But he can't sell the prize this time."

Jeff was surely confused now. He thought of the shiny silver pickup truck back at the lot. "Why not? That's a brand new truck?"

"No, silly," she said. She moved closer. Her face was above his now, and her hair threatened to fall onto his face in a wave at any moment. She smelled good. Was that perfume or shampoo? He could not tell. "I'm talking about the girls."

"The girls?"

"Yes," she said. "They're the real prize. Is he going to split that with you? Let you join him with those two?"

Jeff looked up at those blue eyes, and now the hair did fall down around his face. It tickled his nose. "He hasn't mentioned it," he said.

Stanton's mouth hovered next to his temple. "Then why don't we see about getting you a consolation prize right now," she said just before she licked the inside of his ear. Jeff wasn't going anywhere after that.

Her hands moved on him, one through his hair, the other down his chest. She moved her lips onto his earlobe and kissed it gently. When her hand reached his waist she pulled the shirt out of his pants and let the fingernails trace circles in the soft hair below his navel.

Jeff kept his hands locked to his sides, afraid to make a move, in the thrall of the tigress that moved over top of him. Stanton removed the hand from his head and moved it to his own hand. While kissing his ear still she brought the hand up to her breast. "It's okay for you to touch me," she said throatily. "I don't bite." She nibbled on his ear. "Much," she added with hot breath on his neck.

Supported by a bra, her breast felt solid and stiff to his touch. Moving his hand, he moved his thumb over the top of the bra. Even with her blouse in the way he could feel that her flesh was firm, but so much softer than the cup of the brassiere. He thumbed it gently and enjoyed her mouth moving onto his neck.

Stanton could see that Jeff would need a little more encouragement. She used both hands to throw off her suit jacket and unbutton her blouse. As she bit his neck she pulled off the blouse and then unhooked her bra. Jeff's hand cupped her tit even as the bra was falling away, replacing the harsh restraint of the garment with the tender grip of his fingers. Stanton moaned encouragement. His second hand joined the first, and his rubbing soon had both nipples rigid.

Stanton moved her body forward, and lowered herself so that one hard nipple hovered above his face. She dipped her shoulders and Jeff took the tip of her tit into his mouth, wetly embracing her. "Take off your pants," she told him. "And your watch. I don't want to get scratched."

"Mmm," he responded. Suitable communication for a mouth full of tit. He slid his hands down her bare torso and briefly over her ass before he moved them to unfasten his own pants. Stanton was happy to see he was getting less shy by the moment.

Stanton lifted up and moved to the side to let him suck on her other nipple. She looked down and saw Jeff struggling to kick off his pants. A hard-on pressed up against his boxers, making the cotton shorts look like a lean-to tent. The brunette reached down and gripped it enthusiastically. Jeff sucked back hard on her nipple in response.

"Ooh," she said playfully. "Easy boy."

He released her from his mouth and looked up at her face. "You're pretty," he said.

"You're changing the subject," Stanton said. "I think maybe I should show you the right way to suck." Without letting go of him, she slid down the bed. She moved both hands to his shorts and pulled them over his erection and down his legs. The stiff cock sprang free, and a silky line of pre-cum stretched from the slit atop the tip to the curls of his pubic hair. Stanton brushed the strand aside and with one quick motion tossed her hair over one side of her head and brought her mouth to his dick, leaving a clear view of her face as her lips stretched over his pole. With a fist wrapped on his shaft just above his sack, she pumped him as she sucked on his rock solid flesh. She sucked with as much pressure as she could manage, and Jeff gasped at the feel of her mouth locked on him.

Stanton worked his shaft with her mouth and gave his ball sack a gentle tug with her hand. She increased the tempo but did not allow herself to go too fast. She pulled off and let his cock fall away to slap his stomach. "Still pretty?" she asked.

"Even prettier," he said. "That was incredible."

"Oh, that's nothing, Jeff. Wait to you feel my pussy." Stanton still had a grip on the base of his tool, and she knew that comment got to him, because the shaft surged after she said it. Stanton was wet and knew damn well how aroused Jeff was. Why not move things along.

She moved to the side, kneeling. She was naked above the waist, but still wore shoes, stockings and skirt. She changed that by unzipping the skirt, throwing off her shoes, and then pulling the dress down her legs and over her ankles, leaving her in thigh high stockings and black bikini bottoms. Jeff got on his knees as well and slipped his hands over her ass. She kissed his neck again, and he returned the embrace as he slipped off the panties. When her ass was bare, he took hold of her cheeks. Stanton took off the panties and tossed them with her other clothes.

"Want to feel my pussy now?" she asked.

Jeff didn't answer verbally. Instead he slid a finger down to the crack of her ass, and let it slide between her moist lips. It dipped inside her, but even as he was still working his way inside, Stanton moved her quim off him. She rolled over onto her hands and knees. Now Jeff could see pudenda, framed by the full round cheeks of her ass, and her legs in their thigh highs. Stanton looked back with those bright blue eyes and smiled. "What are you waiting for, stud?"

Jeff moved quickly. He put a hand over the crease of her ass, and used the other to guide his turgid cock to the seam of her twat. His dick was wet with Stanton's spit, and he pushed in easily. He moved a knee up and pushed off it to bury himself to the hilt.

"Uhh," Stanton moaned.

He moved both hands to her round ass, and took a kneading grip of it as he rocked back and forth, coating himself with her juices. When he glided easily Jeff began to really lay into her. With youthful energy, he drove deep into her and pulled out quickly again. Solid slapping sounds mixed with his grunts.

Stanton almost squealed from the hard fucking. It felt so good that she wanted to rock back to meet him. But instead she needed him to tire himself out. She started to crawl away. Jeff moved his hands to her waist and held in her place. Still she tried to move, straining his muscles.

Jeff banged away even harder. Stanton's weight rocked back and forth, and her shoulders moved a great distance to and fro over her hands. She tried to move away with her hands, and when she did her weight collapsed so that her shoulders dropped to the bed. Her ass tilted upward. Jeff plowed into her from above.

"Oh, fuck," she cried. She was trying to make Jeff work hard, and he did, to great effect. The wave of orgasm was building inside her thighs. The pleasure started to crest, and when Jeff's cock pulsed with his own climax, the pleasure hit her full force.

"I'm coming," he called. Stanton simply tried to bite the mattress.

Jeff stopped his piston motion and his prick fell out of her. His breathing was heavy and he rolled over onto his back and lifted his arms above his head. He sucked in great lungfuls of air.

Stanton rested a moment, allowing the echoes of her climax to fade away into her now rubbery limbs. Then she slid off the bed. "That was fantastic. You deserve first prize," she said as she walked to the bathroom in her stockinged feet. There, she cleaned up and washed her face.

When she came back, Jeff was asleep. "Usually that's so annoying," she thought. "But right now that's exactly what I want." It was after 10:00. She dressed quickly, grabbed her cell phone from her bag and stepped outside.

*

Neil Klein was pissed. The break was over, and his hand was back on the truck. The remaining two competitors were also there, and they looked hopeful. They could tell he was pissed off, and that only made him more angry. He could not afford to waste energy like that.

Where the fuck was Jeff? At least he made the shake. But breaks were key time, money time, and he wasn't there for a rubdown, or a head massage. Neil had to put in his own eye drops, and he hated that. At least the nimrod had made him the shake. A little too much hot pepper, though. The last thing Neil needed was an ass-burning shit in the morning. When he found Jeff he was going to really let him have it.

Not now though. Now he needed to conserve and get his mind ready for the next break, when he would powernap. Jeff had better fucking be there for that or his ass was as good as fired.

*

Maytag was returning to the RV when his cell phone rang. It was Stanton. "Hey, Stanton, I have bad news," he said.

"Shoot," she said.

"Klein is clean as can be. He even declares the income from these contests. I don't think we're going to be able to pick him up on anything."

"Jeff was making a 'power shake' for him when I found him. Maybe they're using amphetamines or other drugs. Think that's PC for a search of the car?" She described the vehicle and its location.

There might just be probable cause, Maytag thought. He was going to have to take a look. "Not a bad idea. Where are you?" he asked.

"I have Jeff and he's asleep. I think if we can keep him away Neil might get off his game and make a mistake on his own. But I may have to baby-sit."

"OK," Maytag said. "I'll keep working from this end." He hung up the phone and made his way to Neil's car. The lot stayed open late because of the publicity stunt, so his search benefited from the bright lights. Nevertheless, he failed to turn up anything more powerful than over the counter pain killers, caffeine tablets, and antacids. Even the caffeine tablets looked to be a dead end. An adhesive note attached to the pad warned "Jeff- emergency only - dehydrates you and wears you out - NK." Seems Neil Klein was into clean living if not orthodox careers.

Frustrated, Maytag made his way back to the RV. He didn't really care about stopping Klein. If he wanted to make a living from something this off-center, fine. But he wanted that I-Spy case wrapped up. If that meant foiling Klein's contest effort, then that was what he had to do. The question was how. Pondering that subject, Maytag entered the dark RV distracted.

"Uh, you're kind of cute, but I think you have the wrong trailer," said a raspy alto voice.

Maytag spun and saw two women in bathrobes sitting at the table in the back of the RV. They looked to be playing cards at a small circular table.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was looking for Alex Misky."

"Well you found us instead," said the other one. Her voice was higher pitched and had a slight twang to it. She had red hair and a slight patch of freckles that spanned the tops of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose.

The other had short dishwater blond hair. Maytag thought he saw a piercing on her eyebrow, but he was too far to be sure. She took a drag from her cigarette and spoke again. "Don't be shy now that you're already inside."

Maytag knew these had to be Misky's models. He approached them and watched as they took stock of him. As he got closer he saw that the blonde did have a ring in her eyebrow. There was a stud in her nose as well, on the other side of her face.

"Shit, you're packing a gun," said the blonde.

"I'm with the FBI," Maytag said. He showed them identification. "I'm here at Mr. Misky's request." He appraised the blonde. Her face had a lean look and her narrow brown eyes flickered with intensity. "How did you guess that I was armed?"

"I dated a detective for two years."

"He met her in a club and then he couldn't stand what she did for a living," the redhead proclaimed. Her face was rounder. She had dark black eyes and the corners of her eyes turned down slightly. More open, less piercing. "What a hypocrite!"

"Maybe," said the first one. "But he was definitely jealous of the money."

"What if he was just worried for your safety?" Maytag asked.

The blonde blew smoke out of her mouth and studied him a moment. "Is that why you're here? Do you think we need protection?"

"We need protection from boredom!" the redhead declared. "I've done my nails like four times already this trip."

"Who are you?"

"Agent Gerald Maytag," he said. "And you?"

"I'm Adrian," the redhead bubbled. "That's Cali."

"A pleasure," Maytag said.

"Of course it is," Cali said, flicking ashes. "I don't buy this FBI thing. Misky doesn't pull that kind of weight. You don't look like the goons he does know though. So what's the story? Did he hear us talking about skipping out and bring you in to play watch dog?"

"It's so boring," Adrian said. "I can't take more of this."

"Can it be that bad? It's only been a day or two," Maytag said.

"It's not really," Adrian said. "We were just talking about maybe leaving."

Cali said. "And now here you are."

"If it looks suspicious, I'm sorry. But trust me, I am with the FBI and I am not here to hold anyone against their will." In fact, thinking about his objective, if anything he was here to help them get out faster. "In a way, I'm here to relieve you of the boredom and get you back faster."

"How?" Adrian asked.

"I'll let Mr. Misky explain that," he said.

Cali put out her cigarette. "Take off your clothes," she said.

"Excuse me?" Maytag said. Adrian laughed, a giggly little thing.

"You heard me, take off your clothes. Adrian can't play cards worth a damn, I don't want to watch her do her nails again, and we can't go out to a bar or anything while we're waiting for this contest to finish up. I'll be damned if I'm gonna screw Alex Misky, and I feel the same way about the automobile salesmen that keep looking us over like sirloin served at the local Outback steakhouse. I think you'll do just fine though."

"Ladies, I really hate to tell you this," because this was beginning to sound like fun, "but--"

The lights went out.

"Whoa!" Adrian said. "What happened to the lights?"

Maytag looked outside and realized what happened: the lights inside the RV were never on to begin with. The girls had been sitting by light that poured in from outside. The lot had shut down for the night and turned off the lights. A small bank illuminated the contest scene, but the rest of the lot was dimmer. The crowds were gone save a few curious onlookers. Maytag had a clear view of the scene not 100 yards away. He looked straight at Neil Klein.

Cali figured it out as well. She turned on the lights. Maytag saw Neil's head snap up at the camper. So he saw the light, despite his sunglasses. That's when inspiration struck Maytag.

"OK, Cali," he turned around. "If you want me to get naked, then I guess I have to do just that."

Maytag took out his weapon, ejected the clip, removed the round from the chamber. He holstered the weapon and put the ammo in his trousers. Then he took off his jacket and rested it on the back of a nearby chair. Cali watched him as he unbuttoned the shirt and removed that to display a sleek upper body. Adrian watched with interest, too, but Cali seemed more focused. Adrian was enjoying this, Cali was daring him to go on.

Maytag did go on, losing shoes, dropping his trousers, pulling off socks. He was getting to his boxers, and Adrian was slipping out of her chair, when Cali said, "See, I told you he wasn't FBI! What FBI agent would do this?"

"Who cares?" Adrian asked. "Like you said, I can't play cards worth a damn. He's got a nice body, too."

Maytag threw back his shoulders at the compliment. "I told you the truth, Cali. You told me to get naked, and I think it will help my case. Should I stop?"

"How is this helping your case?"

"You'll see later," Maytag said.

Adrian moved to his side. "I want to see now! Get out of those shorts."

Maytag looked at Cali. This time his gaze dared her. "Go ahead," Cali said. "This has gotta be more fun than whatever the hell we were going to do tonight."

Adrian moved closer to Maytag. The redhead pulled his boxers down. He only had to step out of him. The girl with the freckled face had his floppy prick in her mouth before he could even do that.

"Eager little thing, isn't she?" Cali asked. She walked over to Maytag and put a hand on his chest.

His dick was filling up quickly, and soon Adrian was going to have trouble holding the whole organ in her mouth. Meanwhile, Maytag had trouble speaking. "I think," he tried to push Adrian's head away from his swelling dick, "that we should move closer to the window."

Adrian let the half erect member drop from her mouth. "Kinky!" She dropped her robe showing Maytag a round pink bottom as she made her way back to the cushioned bench under the window.

Cali moved her hand to Maytag's chin and kissed him. "OK, G-man," she said "let's see what you got."

Maytag moved over to the bench. Adrian laid on her back. He moved his pelvis over to her face. She had been doing such a nice job after all. With a smile she went back to sucking him hard. Maytag moved a hand to her round white breasts and their large pink dome-shaped caps. He squeezed them in turn and the caps grew firm and sprouted dime sized nipples. Adrian's bush was a thin but thick patch of wiry auburn curls.

"Don't just look at it," Cali said behind him. "Eat it." She pushed her patella into the small behind Maytag's knee, and he sank a bit. Then she pushed his head down. Maytag took the hint and bent over Adrian's body, crawling over her until his face burrowed into that trim strip of fiery pubes.

Maytag was totally stiff now, and with his arms wrapped around Adrian's ass and a tongue sliding inside her slit, he pumped his cock into her mouth. Then he felt a tongue licking his balls. Maytag looked back and saw Cali, now disrobed as well, with her head behind his ass. 'That must be her tongue,' he thought, 'and that must be her finger!'

Cali laid her tongue out like a pink velvet carpet and Maytag rubbed his balls along it as he fucked Adrian's mouth. Then she dipped the tip of her finger into his ass and he didn't miss a beat. She pushed in until she went past her second knuckle and he still pumped away and kept his head down. This was sure as hell more fun than cards.

Adrian relaxed and opened her throat to oblige the man above her as he humped. She loved a nice hard dick in her mouth, and getting licked at the same time was always a treat. He was good too. If he kept this up she was going to come. Hands and arms gripped her ass, and she started to feel Cali's hand on her tits. Much better than doing her nails.

Cali finger fucked the guy's asshole and sucked a nut into her mouth. She reached around with a free hand and fondled Adrian's tit.

Maytag felt one of his balls tossed around in Cali's mouth. He had to slow down his pumping now because he was restricted by Cali holding on to his nut like that. Adrian tongued the tip of his shaft, though, and there was that finger poking around back there. The whole thing was intense, and his only release was to flick out with his tongue as quickly as possible.

Adrian wondered why he stopped sliding up and down into her mouth, but then she felt his tongue flying over her clit like a goddamn hummingbird. That must take all kinds of concentration, she thought, no wonder he can't stroke like that anymore. The least she could do was to try to lick him like he licked her. Oh, shit, she was going to come hard. She moaned against his dick. Cali pinched her nipple. Oh, she was coming.

Maytag felt the legs clamp down on his face and her buttocks start to clench. The redhead was coming and she was squeezing his head as she did so. Even with her thighs pressed against his ears he heard her moan. And it felt great on his cock. Her legs shook.

Cali saw Adrian grab the cushion with one hand and her knuckles go white. Next she heard the moaning. Finally the girl was shaking. Cali waited for the orgasm to subside, then she moved her face and hand away from his ass. "Nice work, G-man," she said as she slapped him on the ass. "Now roll over and let me at her a little bit."

The man pushed himself up and looked at the window, then down as Cali slid under the level of the ledge and the two girls started to lick each other. He was almost too distracted to note the implication. "Oh, shit. That was all below the sight line. No one saw anything!"

Cali looked back as she slid her pussy on Adrian's face. "Relax. I'm sure they saw the van rocking a bit. If you want visuals, just get behind me and put that nice dick to work."

That was an order Maytag easily followed. Cali's tan line outline of a thong was like a great curved white arrow on a bronze field. "Insert here" it told him. Maytag pushed inside easily.

Adrian looked up and saw the head of his cock over her eyes. She stopped licking to watch it plunge inside. It looked fantastic. Then she went back to licking Cali's clit, letting her tongue slide onto his rod once in a while.

If she could do it, so could he. Maytag moved a thumb over to the crack of her ass. During one of his back strokes, he placed the pad of his thumb against her fundament, and then pushed inside with a quick flick. He stroked at a steady pace. The van was definitely rocking now.

Maytag and Cali came together. Her pussy sucked at him with a hot wetness that he could not endure. She succumbed to the intense combination of his cock, Adrian's tongue and a thumb lodged in her ass. Maytag slapped the window and grunted as he pumped jizz inside her. Cali bucked back at him and took her head from between Adrian's legs to call out a few choice obscenities.

Adrian purred.

*

Neil Klein noticed the lights from the lot went out. It was now a little too dark to see with his shades on. Still, he wasn't taking them off. No way. Screw these assholes, and screw Jeff, too.

His head jerked up when the light came on in the camper. That was where those skank hos were staying. There were some people in there. He could make out shapes dimly. After a short bit he saw no one. The he swore the RV shook a bit.

Suddenly a figure appeared in the window. The RV was definitely moving now. Driving away? No, rocking. Well, what do you know, the little sluts are at it right now. Probably fucking each other with a strap on, like a couple of lezbos. Damn nymphos probably can't get enough. Pretty soon it was going to be his turn.

*

"If that helped your case," Cali said, "you do the most interesting police work I ever heard of."

Maytag was dressed again, and he was setting the alarm on his cell phone. He looked back at Cali after he was finished keying in the alarm time. "Trust me, it did. Now all we have to do is hang out here a little longer. Please excuse me though if I take a little nap. I suggest you do the same."

*

Stanton sat in the motel chair. It was not very comfortable, which helped keep her awake. The goal was to keep watch over Jeff. He had been sleeping a few hours, but she moved the clock back once in a while and did the same to his watch. When he woke it would look like he had plenty of time t make the 2 AM break to assist Neil.

Instead, she would wake him it at half past that hour. Neil would be back at the car, pissed off she hoped. If only Maytag had figured out a way to use that.

She adjusted the clocks one last time and walked outside to fix the clock in the car. Her plan was to call Maytag to see if he had any reason to keep Jeff there any longer than that.

Just as she was about to call her partner, her phone rang. "Hey, I was just going to call you."

"Do you still have Jeff with you?"

"Yes."

"OK," Maytag said, He explained the plan and Stanton smiled.

"Jeff," she woke him up. "There's some people who want to meet you."

*

As the sun rose, Neil Klein was furious. Jeff was nowhere to be found. That was three breaks now that worthless numnutz missed. His ass was so fired.

Neil was cranky and irritated, and he knew that's when people made mistakes. Even more detrimental than missing his power naps, he could not afford to be out of focus.

Those sluts had been at it again, too. Right around 3 AM that whole started rocking again for a good long time. He wanted to see those girls get up and shake their thing for the radio people this morning. Someone would probably have to drag them out of bed and hose them down to wake them up after that all night fuck session. He could not wait to get a piece of that shit.

That was his focus, he knew. He would make that his goal. He kept one palm flat against the truck, all five digits in contact. He kept his eyes fixed on that RV. That was his salvation.

The radio people arrived and set up, all happy to see that three still remained. Neil didn't give them a second look. He watched that RV. Sure enough the door opened and out came one of them. Short hair, had to be the blonde skank with the shit in her face. Wait, that looked like a guy.

It was Jeff! That no good prick was out fucking those girls while Neil suffered to make his paycheck, and here he was just walking out into the sun stretching like some proud fucking rooster. Neil was going to kill him. In fact he went three whole steps before the amazed looks on everyone's faces told him what he had done. He looked down at his hand, crestfallen to see that it was no longer touching the truck.

*

Misky finished telling them what he knew about I-Spy. "Thank you, Mr. Misky," Maytag said. "That should be more than enough to put I-Spy out of business."

"Damn fine job," Misky said to them. "I pulled up for the morning start and there Neil was, headed to the trailer like a zombie. Must have been some night. The girls look as tired as you two do."

"I can't tell you how a big help they were to us," Maytag said.

Stanton nodded. "I'm sure they feel really pounded right now. They probably deserve a nice bonus."

"They earned it," Maytag agreed.

"How about you two?" Misky asked. "Why not look around the lot, I'm sure we could arrange something special with the head of sales."

"No, thanks," Maytag said. "We've had our fill of hardbodies this trip."

End