Here's an excerpt from my erotic short story "Gettin' Fixed". It is a story that challenges assumptions. Hot sex and a happy ending. Excerpt: "It would probably be a good idea if you…well if you wanted to…" He let his gaze rest first on my chest and then on my crotch. "I mean, my father's an old man and I wouldn't want you to give him a heart attack like you nearly gave me. Plus, Mom's the old-fashioned type." "Oh God, yes. I really didn't expect to be getting out of my car until I reached Chris's house." I trotted over to the car and retrieved a pair of panties and a bra from my suitcase and stuffed them in my purse."Where can I, uh, get more dressed?" "The bathroom is just nasty. Go into the supply closet off the office." The closet was small but clean. I stepped out of my dress and fanned my sticky body with a piece of cardboard laying on one of the shelves. Looking down at my body I began to imagine it pressed against Ron's dark chiseled torso. I wondered if the parts I couldn't see were as scrumptious as the ones I could. I ran my free hand down from my neck and around my breasts, tweaking at the nipples that were quickly responding to my thoughts. I slid my hand between my thighs, knowing I'd find wetness there. I certainly didn't have time to do more than press my clit a few times and sigh with frustration. It sure had been a while since I'd had any satisfaction that wasn't self induced. "I'd be happy to take care of that for you" I turned to find the door wide open and Ron standing there, hand stroking the bulge in his jeans. He put his hand on the open door. "I should have warned you that this door doesn't latch well unless you really pull hard on it. It always swings back open." "Maybe," I boldly offered, "you didn't want to warn me." He stepped toward me and ran a soft, greased stained finger around my nipple. "Perhaps you're right. Maybe I hoped that old door would behave just like it always does and I'd be standing right out here to get a look at your beautiful body." Ron leaned down and brushed my neck with a soft kiss. His lips were hot against me and sent a chill down my body in spite of the heat. He leaned over and kissed his way down my belly and slicked his tongue, ever so lightly over my shaved pussy, flicking my clit just once. He trailed kisses back up my body and landed a kiss on my mouth that ignited me. "You are absolutely perfect. You're like a rich Renaissance painting conceived by an artist who adored real women. A Rubens," His hand cupped my breast. "A Raphael." He stroked around my belly."A Bellini." He squeezed one cheek of my ass. "A Titian…" In spite of my arousal, I found myself thinking it very odd that a gas station attendant could rattle off artists like that. I barely recognized the names and I'd been a liberal arts major. But he kissed that thought away.