turned, and I brushed some imaginary fluff from her lower back. “Some lint, or
something. There, it’s gone. Let’s see, what’s popular… Spice Girls, of
course, and James Taylor, Celine Dion –” “Those are crap,” she offered. “All
that’s good now is fuck tunes.” “Well, yeah,” I stammered, “there’s lots of good
R&B stuff out now, like Maxwell and D’Angelo –” “That’s what I like, stuff like
that.” She looked around. “Are you all by yourself back here?” I shrugged.
“Pretty much. We’re short-staffed, and only have a few people to watch this big
place. Everybody else is working in books.” “Hmmmmmm.” She turned back to look
at the displays. It could have been my imagination, but she seemed to stand so I
would have a great view of her incredible body. The bra she wore was slightly
too small, causing her breasts to bulge slightly in the blue t-shirt. The plaid
skirt lifted and fell as she moved, short enough to show off her tanned legs. I
was sure I was making a puddle of drool on the desk as I stood gazing at her.
Maybe old enough to be a college freshman, maybe not. Did it matter? On the
silk sheets in the bed of my heart, age didn’t (and doesn’t) matter much to me,
and the possibility of anything happening was pretty slim. My stupor was
interrupted again as she turned back to me and strode back to the desk. She
perched in the same position as before, giving me a teasing glimpse. “You were
looking at me the other night, too, when I was here with my friends,” she said in
a conspiratorial whisper. Then I remembered seeing her, dressed in a similarly
stunning green cotton sundress, with some other gorgeous young lasses. My buddy
Rob had moaned at his inability to run into such beauties anywhere but work as
I’d covertly gawked. Not as covertly as I’d thought, obviously. “Weren’t you?”
She was staring at me mischieviously. “Uhm…” She narrowed her eyes and smiled
ever so slightly. “Guys stare, it’s what guys do when they see something they
…End of the part2. To be continued..
