Strips
Tall Tank Tales
The Vintage Rack
"Damn the cylinder head is cracked again."
"Whaddya mean, Jet? You just fixed the other one last month." Tanky spit out her cigarette, crushing the butt into the sand in frustration.
"If you didn’t drive like such a maniac, maybe I would not spend so much time under the hood!" Jet spat back.
They had this conversation on a regular basis, and it did not vary much. Spending days and weeks traveling through the sandy waste land of what once plush farmland did not bode well for the aging tank and plane. However, Jet seemed to be able to fix anything, no matter how impossible the odds seeemed. Her skills with a wrench and solder gun could put anyone to shame. She pulled herself out from beneath a rack, her black hair pressed against her face, the sweat leaving a twisting track on her skin.
Booga was off on a journey to find some parts for the plane, and they were holed up in the remains of an old midwestern town. There were places that were so far gone, you had no idea where you were, and then there were places like this. The building had once been a store, one of those warehouse places where you could buy 500 rolls of toilet paper and 10 lbs. of cheese in one run. (who the hell needed that much cheese anyhow?) There was plenty of room for the tank and plane, but there was nothing but the bare walls around them.
Tank Girl felt herself getting restless, and she hoppped into the tank, and began to rummage through her box of clothes. Time had turned much of them into scraps, full of holes, and patches, but then again, wherever she went, she found new stuff. She kicked the box over.
"What?" Jet looked up at her from the tangle of wires.
"Let’s go shopping, c’mon woman!" Tank grabbed Jet by the arm and hoisted her up. They grabbed their guns, and headed outside. The wind was blowing, (when did it NOT fucking blow) Tanky pulled her mask and goggles up, Jet was already prepared. They found the "downtown" area, a few shops on a main drag, and a big brick building, probably had been the post office. Jet pulled Tank Girl into a shop. The front was full of sand, but as they walked towards the back, Jet kicked in a door long sealed against time.
"Holy Shit, Jet! This is a gold mine. Look at all this..."
"I can see, c’mon let’s try it on."
The back room was full of clothes! Not just crappy old rags, but beautiful women’s clothes. There were coats, dresses, skirts, blouses, tons of shoes, and lingerie! Neither of them had seen such things for so long, they hardly knew what to do with it all. Jet stripped off her shorts and halter, underwear right behind. Tanky did the same, and the plowed into the racks, shaking the sand from it, and pulling it over their heads, buttoning each other up, and howling with laughter. They tossed the stuff back and forth, and finally, came to the lingerie.
"Damn, Jet, look at this stuff." Tanky pulled a black leather bra on, and found a skirt that went with it. "If only Booga could see me now.."
"Fuck him, I can see you!" Jet said, her eyes full of mischief.
"Yah? How about this one? This work for you?"
Tank Girl had pulled a red silk thong off the rack, pulled it on, dropped the bra to the floor and turned to face Jet. Years of tooling around in the desert had left her thin and tight all over. Jet let her eyes rest on the woman before her, hungry she was for Tanky. She walked closer, and let her hands run over breasts, belly, and arms.
"Jet, hey...keep on...c’mon"
Jet pushed Tank Girl down onto the pile of silk and cotton, and her mouth roamed freely. She was nibbling her neck, sucking the earlobes filled with studs, and then she was over her breasts, and she began to lick them gently, flicking her tongue and sending Tanky into a writhing frenzy. (shit, Booga was good, but this was a whole other world)
Not to be outdone, Tank Girl grabbed the silk dress that Jet wore, and pulled it off. Jet was not lean like Tanky, she had breasts that were full and round, and an ass that TG often found herself staring at. They were rolling around on the clothes, arms and legs tangled up, and soon Jet was lowering her mouth on that most sacred of places on Tanky. The sounds coming from that room could have been heard from miles away if there was anyone to hear them! (OH! my....you can do more than fix engines, Jet Girl!) Jet had her turn in the spotlight, and she had the blonde locks of tank girls head wrapped around her fingers as she moaned and panted her way into the next realm.
Cigarettes for each of them followed, and they lay, naked, in quiet back room.
"Damn Jet, I could get used to this." Tanky blew a smoke ring to the ceiling, her grin wide.
"Ahh, no fucking way, you and Booga could never make it without each other on a daily, wait make that an hourly basis."
"Can’t argue with that, but this was different. Did you dig girls before the comet?"
"You finally catching on? Damn..." Jet reached into her pack and passed a beer over to TG.
"Me, I always thought, well, that it could be a lot of fun."
Cigarette out, beers done, the two looked at each, and neither of them wanted to go back to the empty shell they had been living in for days. The room was small, and looking at each in such a state was not the worst place to be. Jet lay back and closed her eyes, sleep always overcame her quickly. Tank Girl threw on her old things, picked up her gun, and walked out into the front of the store.
"What the FUCK are you doing in here?" an unfamiliar voice boomed out.
"Yo, what the..." Tank Girl turned to see a woman standing at the entrance to the shop.
"I might ask the same thing, sweetie" Tank turned and aimed her gun directly at her.
The woman was tiny, only about 5 ft., her black hair up in a bun, her hands holding a large bat. Tank Girl knew she was nothing to worry about, but where there was smoke, there might be a fucking blaze.