Backseat Fast Girls. Historical Heat, #1

1956 is the golden age of pretty young carhops, and Dotty is no exception. It's her birthday, but she couldn't have guessed just how swell a turn her special day would take when two dangerous-looking cats pull up in a souped-up hot rod. Dotty's always been a nice girl. Will she really toss her reputation to go play back seat bingo with a couple of fast dykes who want to give her "one to grow on"?EXCERPT:"You ever had grass?" asked Sir, taking out a hand-rolled cigarette from an inside pocket and lighting it up.
I hadn't, but I wasn't about to look like a wet rag in front of these two."Sure, " I said breezily, accepting it and taking a drag. I coughed, but it wasn't too bad. I even liked the taste of it; sort of earthy and pungent. The act of smoking it with them made me feel like the bees' knees. I could feel where her fingers had brushed mine when she handed over the cigarette, and I was suddenly aware of Miss Liz's thigh pressed up against mine.
I shifted a little, breaking contact, but she moved it right back. When she took a drag, her lipstick left an imprint on top of the one I'd made, and the sight of it made me feel a little giddy. She saw me looking and smiled slowly."You know what I thought when I first saw you?" she asked."No, " I replied hesitantly, embarrassed. I couldn't help remembering my earlier dopiness. "What?""How much I'd like to kiss those pretty lips of yours." Her hand drifted up to rest under my chin.
"Would you mind very much?" I stared at her, wide-eyed. Just a few hours ago I might have recoiled, but gosh, was she pretty. I had more than half a mind to actually let her do it."You- you wouldn't tell anybody, wouldja? I mean-" She laughed a little, shaking her head, and pressed a finger to my lips."We won't tell, pinky swear." She came in slowly, and I could smell her perfume: musk and powder and elegance.
Maybe Chanel no. 5, I thought distantly, the instant before her soft lips met mine.