My boyfriend hopped out of the car and jumped into the backseat as soon as we came to a stop. We've done this before.

"Pick a winner this time, Jess," he said as he scrunched between the seats and pulled the blanket over his lanky body.

Some days, I'll swear that Mickey's intelligence quotient doesn't break the three digit mark, but one thing he has going for him is that he's loyal. He can be counted on. He's also big enough to take care of himself and me too.

By, 'Pick a winner, ' Mickey was telling me to set my sights on the right car and do whatever I needed to make it stop.

As I searched the oncoming traffic, I spotted a Lexus coming over the ridge. I went into action, kneeling down next to my front tire, letting my long locks tumble to cover my face, and then tossing my head back to show my smiling face.

I definitely had the attention of the driver. His head swiveled to keep me in his sight, but he didn't slow down immediately.

"Damn, I lost him," I said, loud enough for Mickey to hear, and then, "Wait, he's stopped, he's backing up."

I was on my hands and knees with my ass in the air when he stopped the Lexus and approached me from my backside.

"Do you have a flat tire, Miss?" he asked, shouting to be heard over the traffic that was buzzing down the road.

I was careful to keep my ass in the air as I turned my head to look at the man. He was swarthy, with thinning hair, narrow lips, and beady eyes.

"I don't know," I said, putting my hand on the tire, like I could feel if it was flat. "It was making a noise so I pulled over."

The man squatted down next to me. He was wearing a powder-blue suit with a dark blue shirt and a white tie. His shoes were polished to a high gloss. I made sure my knees touched his. He patted the tire, using my technique to detect if it was flat. The ring on his little finger was pale blue to match his suit. His watch looked expensive.

"It seems okay to me," he said in a voice that was neither decisive nor certain. He glanced at me and licked his lips, probably wondering what he could say to entice me to follow him to a motel.

"Thanks for stopping, Mister. I owe you," I said, batting my eyelashes.

"No, you don't owe me anything," he said, standing up as if to walk back to his car and drive away. I couldn't let that happen.

I stood up and discovered that I was an inch taller. "Come to the other side of the car where we can talk," I said, motioning to the speeding traffic on the road.

He obviously had mixed feeling about following me to the other side of my car. I had to resort to pulling gently on the end of his tie, smiling alluringly. I'm sure he was wondering what was in store for him. He'd done nothing to deserve a reward. I needed to convince him otherwise.

"I owe you for stopping," I said, dropping to my knees and unbuckling his belt before he could voice a complaint. I had to stifle a laugh when I saw his shorts. They were powder blue with dark blue fishes to match his suit and shirt. He offered no resistance when I lowered his shorts and inspected his equipment. His little cock was already expanding, and his balls had tightened up in the way some guys get when they are aroused.

"Hmmm," I said as I circled the rim with my tongue. I knew I had his full attention when his hips jigged forward, trying to penetrate my lips.

"Hmmm," I said, opening my mouth to accept three inches of his cock.

"Oh, Baby!" the man exclaimed.

I backed off, holding only the head between my lips, which was enough to make him think there was more ... until he became inpatient.

The growl came from deep in my throat the second I felt his hands on the back of my head. The growl causes vibration that makes the guy crazy. It also alerts Mickey to go into action. He was out of the backseat and had taken two pictures, a close-up of the hands on the back of my head and another one of his face, before the man knew there was someone else present.

Like I mentioned before, Mickey is a big guy, imposing really. The man removed his hands from my head, allowing me to stand up and take on a hurt look.

"He made me do it," I said, wiping my lips, beginning to cry.

:"It was her idea. I didn't make her," the man differed.

"Shut the fuck up! Do you know the penalty for contributing to the delinquency of a minor in this state?" Mickey asked.

It had taken me weeks to teach Mickey that speech. That was last year, when I was seventeen. Why change a line that still worked?

"I didn't..." the man started to say when he saw Mickey's fist ready to strike. He shut his trap real fast.

"What do you want to do, Sis?" Mickey asked. (In case you haven't guessed, Sis is a code word that I taught him to say.)

"We'll take him to the nearest police station. Give me your car keys, Mister," I said, holding out my hand.

"Can't we ... I know what you want ... I'm a respectable citizen ... you have nothing on me," the man stammered.

"We have the pictures," Mickey put in, holding the camera in front of the man's face, daring him to reach for it.

"How much would it take... ?" the man began, but stopped, like he knew that 'How much would it take... ?' was music to our ears.

I smiled at him, as I leaned near him to extract his wallet from his back pocket. "Better put that away," I said, looking down at his limp dick. He quickly pulled his shorts and pants up while I searched his billfold.

His driver's license indicated that he was fifty-one years old, certainly old enough to have better sense than to fall for a side-of-the-road scam. There were three credit cards and a folder of photographs. We never take credit cards or jewelry and I don't want to know what a gentleman's family looks like. The cash was what I was interested in. There was a hundred and thirty-five dollars.

"You can stop at the next ATM," I suggested, holding the cash for him to see. He nodded, enthusiastically.

I leaned in to him to place his wallet in the side pocket of his coat. "You be good," I said in my most seductive voice. "Next time, I'll deep throat you."

He looked relieved to be getting off so easily, but he stopped after only a few feet. "May I... ?" he asked, looking longingly at the camera.

Mickey grinned and shook his head, just the way I'd taught him, and the man turned to almost run to his car.

We watched the Lexus move into traffic before we high-fived.

In other words; I scored BIG; Mickey got pictures of me sucking cock.

The convenience store was an unlikely place to make a score. That's why I pretended that I didn't see him when Mickey motioned for me. But when he got that special look of impatience on his face that shows he's frustrated with me, I got out of his car and strolled toward the door.

Inside, I counted seven customers in addition to Mickey and me. I shrugged to show him that I didn't see why he'd insisted that I join him. He jerked his head to the left, toward the ice cream freezers where customer number eight's head popped up above the shelves of food items. I saw immediately why he had been so insistent. I poked my tongue in the side of my cheek, which was my way of congratulating him for his find.

The man was young, mid-thirties, wearing a pin-striped suit, and looked to be very successful. I checked the parking lot, but didn't see a car that fit his profile. Perhaps he'd parked on the side of the building.

The man was making his way to the cash register. I quickly scooped up four packages of Twinkies, Mickey's favorite, and rushed to the checkout counter just before the man in the pin-striped suit. He even smelled good. I wiggled my ass as I lay the Twinkies on the counter.

As the clerk rang up my purchase, I reached in the front pocket of my cut-offs, coming up empty. "I'm sure I had a ten in that pocket," I said, cocking my butt to the side as I felt in the other pocket. "Oh, my," I said, looking forlornly at the clerk. He gazed back at me, indifferent.