Naked Stoic Lesbian Delivery Service: Chapter One

Naked Stoic Lesbian Delivery Service: Chapter One

You see them in more places than your mind lets you consciously register. They entice you to buy expensive perfume in magazines with scented inserts. They appear in between your favorite TV shows to make brand name bodywash seem sexy and to act like one bite of chocolate is better than the hottest, most lurid night of your life. You probably don't even notice, but that car dealership down the road's got one on retainer to push the latest luxury sedan. Those aren't models. They're not actresses or even cute interns from the accounts receivable department. They're one of the rarest, most dangerous creatures on the planet. They are naked stoic lesbians, amorquendam patesco, and it's my job to brave the wild in search of them.

There's not a lot of work for cons in this world. I got out of the Marion County pen after two years on an auto theft rap. I'll cop to it, I was guilty as the rest of them. A quarter century of watching folks live luckier than I did just got to me, so one day I boosted some lady's SUV. I saw something I wanted, so I took it. Simple as that. The bastard rolled into a ditch on the first hard corner. Fast forward to my early release and I can't so much as get a gig mopping the floor at some taco place staffed with a bunch of junior felons. I wasn't about to move back in with Uncle Jake, so I figured I'd take a risk and skipped out on my parole. No prior offenses, no history of drugs or violence. They'd more than likely just forget about me.

I wound up in Yuma after about a week and a half of hitching. That's when I saw my first one. See, gorgeous girls don't ever just show up in toilet-town diners. Anyone tells you different, he's either lying or what they call "possessed of lower standards than you and I". But there she was, a stunning woman just leaning up against the gas pumps across the street, naked as the day she was born. No one else seemed to notice. I paid my bill and walked outside.

I approached the woman gentle as I could. She didn't move a muscle but her eyes were on me like a cat waiting for a rabbit to dart. "You... you all right, girl? You cold?" I said to her. I heard this low clicking sound come from her, like some kinda slowed-down purr. Then, before I could do anything else, this dart stuck into the support beam beside her and she was off like a shot. On all fours, bending in ways a person shouldn't be able to bend, she... galloped, I guess, toward the desert.

This crazy-looking fella in blue leather pants and a black scarf comes running up behind me with a rifle. "Damn it, yokel, you spooked it!" he said. He jumped in a pickup truck, I assumed to go after the woman. Don't ask me why, but I jumped in the bed when he wasn't looking. Some twenty minutes later, we're in the middle of nowhere, and that's saying something compared to Yuma. The guy gets out of the truck and goes back to the bed to grab his gun. Of course, he's not too happy to see me. He didn't say anything, though. He just grabbed the rifle and started skulking toward this outcropping of rocks.

I followed and what did we find there but the naked woman, back-to-back with another one that looked just like her. It seemed like they might be posing or something. The blue leather guy, he knelt down and lined up his iron sights. "Southwest brunette reticulated," he muttered, then he squeezed one round off. It was another one of those darts and it caught her right between the ribs. She started to run but didn't get far. When we got to the body, the guy looked at me and said, "You gonna help me get it to the truck or are you some prick conservationist?"