My heartfelt gratitude goes to my editor, Keith S.
I picked up my wet chin and smiled at her, watching her shiver a little as an aftershock ran through her frame. Licking the last few drops of her sweet taste, I smoothed her pubic hair with my hand and rested my chin on the back of my knuckles as I looked into her eyes. My other hand was under her, holding a cheek of her beautiful butt. This was our first time together and I was determined that she enjoy it. We'd met in a supermarket, of all places...
She liked veggies, at least that was what her cart told me. I'd gone to shop for groceries after work and spotted her in the aisle, my eyes drawn to her like a magnet. She wore hip-hugger shorts and a skimpy top, with sandals on her feet. The picture was too nice to not want a second glimpse; hair to the middle of her back and that bare tummy, mmmmm! I followed from a distance, thinking she looked like Natalie Wood, but fragile and sad. I counted the vertebrae in her spine and thought of caressing her ribcage beneath her shirt. As she walked toward me I saw she had smallish breasts (my favorite!) and no bra. The dark brown points of her nipples were making little tents in her shirt. I smiled as I walked by and got a small smile in return. Nothing more than politeness to a stranger, but progress nevertheless. My height, about 5-10, and lighter than my 145 pounds, she was a vision in white. As I checked out, I resolved to come back often and try to strike up a conversation with her.
Two days later I shopped again and didn't see her. I wondered if I was being foolish about my fascination with her. I began going to the store every day about the same time, picking up a few things and wandering the aisles in search of her. Some days I managed to catch a glimpse of her at the end of an aisle, other times I'd walk right by and smile, checking out her costume of the day. She wore mostly shorts and tops, and once a short skirt that revealed her upper thigh as she bent to take something from a lower shelf. I kept telling myself that being consumed by this obsession was no good for me, but I couldn't not go and seek her out.
My chance came two weeks after my first sighting. I left the store and saw her in the parking lot near a car with the hood up, peering into the engine compartment with disgust.
I walked up and said, "Hi, need some help?"
"Goddamn thing won't start," she said, frowning.
I knew a little about cars and asked, "You want me to try?"
"Go ahead," she said, as she put her groceries onto the front seat.
I looked and the problem was fairly obvious: a loose battery cable. Grabbing a pair of pliers from my Jeep, I twisted it off and cleaned it while she watched.
Re-installing it and locking the nut, I said, "Try it now."
The engine caught and purred immediately, causing her to smile. With white even teeth, a cute face and soft-looking lips, she was even prettier than I'd imagined.
"Thank you!" she gushed, "What do I owe you?"
"A cup of coffee sometime," I replied, tucking the pliers in my back pocket.
"That's no problem!" she said. "I've got to go now, but how about tomorrow at noon?"
"Sure," I replied, touching her arm. "See you then."
The next day I appeared early, not wanting to chance missing her. I dressed for the occasion, choosing sandals and denim shorts, with my shirt-tails knotted under my breasts. A little perfume in my modest cleavage added some scent to the air as I waited under the awning, smoking a cigarette. She pulled into the lot slowly, looking around. I waved and her face lit up as she spotted me and drove to the curb.
"Hi," she said. "Where do you want to go?"
I knew she meant for coffee, but I couldn't help but think 'anywhere you are, darling girl.' I hoped she was younger than me, I hoped she would like me.
I hoped a myriad things in the few seconds it took to get in her car and say, "There's a nice place in the next block."
She nodded and drove away, concentrating on the traffic. I pointed out the sign and she slowed, pulling to the curb and parking right in front. We sat at a table outside under an umbrella and ordered two coffees from the prompt waitress.
As we waited for our cups to arrive I asked, "You new to the neighborhood?"
"Yeah, kinda, been here a couple months... I may not stay though," she frowned.
I could tell she was preoccupied and didn't press, but it was time she knew my name. I wanted to see what it sounded like coming from her mouth.
"I'm Bree," I said.
"Hello, Bree. I'm Ashlee Alexander. Two e's, from Ames, Iowa," she said.
"You look like a healthy girl. Were you raised on a farm?" I asked.
"Nope, in town, but close enough to smell the corn!" she giggled.
"Where do you work?" I asked.
"I don't right now; that's one of the reasons I may have to go back soon," she said.
In answer to my unspoken question she said, "It's a long story."
I took a sip of coffee and said, "We've got as long as you want."
Hesitant, shy and often embarrassed, she told of the circumstances that had brought her to the suburbs of Chicago. Her boyfriend of three years had gotten her pregnant a month from graduation, then disappeared as soon as he was told. Her father threw her out of the house and she miscarried at four months while living with friends. Her mother was the one who was sympathetic and had given her the money to go away and make a fresh start.
She wiped her eyes as she finished the tale and said, "I guess I made a mess of things."
I knew from past experience that her self-esteem was at an all-time low, her wallet was almost empty, and she was desperate. Facing her parents again was the last thing on earth she wanted.
She roused my maternal instincts and I said, "If you had a job you'd be ok for a while?"
She nodded yes and I sat silently thinking. They always needed people where I worked; maybe I could ask a favor of a few people and get her on. That wouldn't guarantee my relationship with her, but it would be a start. I told her that I'd check a few things and let her know. She smiled gratefully and we spent the next hour or so talking about girl stuff, while I stole glances at her legs or breasts whenever I could. She left me sitting there, happy and grateful I'd had the chance to talk with her. I thought she might be the one I'd been searching for, a soul mate for me. I was tired of spending time alone, and maybe she felt the same way.
I spoke with Personnel and they said to have her come in right away. I called her and told her to come down to the plant, giving her directions. I didn't see her, but when I got home there was a message on my machine that was happy and excited.
"They hired me! I'm supposed to be a packer. Do you know what that is? Call me right away, please?"
I showered, savoring the moment, and relaxed on the couch as I picked up the phone to call. I told her what a packer was and how to dress for it, explaining what I knew. I suggested dinner to celebrate and she hesitated long enough to tell me she didn't have enough money.
"I'll buy," I said, and she agreed to meet me. I knew of a small Italian place that was perfect and said, "I'll pick you up about 7 o'clock."
We met in the parking lot of the market and she climbed into the Jeep, smiling and saying "Thank you!" over and over.
She was wearing a tan dress with heels and had her hair piled up, the loose curls dangling here and there around her face. My sundress looked mousy by comparison. We ate, getting giggly with the wine, and I learned she was 19. That was perfect for my 23, and I was further encouraged by her openness and obvious delight at being with me. Her scent was intoxicating, much more so than the wine, and she wasn't wearing a bra. When she would lean over the table to whisper, the edges of her small mounds captured my eyes and wouldn't let go. I knew that if I pushed her I might be able to get her into my bed and suck her dry, but that would eliminate any chance for a long term relationship. I decided to bide my time and court her the old-fashioned way, and let the end result be her decision. I was sick and tired of one-night stands and morning recriminations.
I took her to her car, got her address and gave her mine, then promised to look in on her the next day at work. A light kiss on my cheek and thanks for the dinner were enough. Later that night in my bed I pinched my nipples and rubbed my clit, fantasizing the hands were hers.
Over the next few days we ate lunch together and talked, and, to my surprise, I confided some things to her that I thought were for ever buried, including some of my experiences with men and other private things.
One Friday I asked her, "What are you doing for the weekend?"
"Nothing much," she replied.
"Do you want to go to the quarries with me? We can sunbathe and get wet if we want."
"Is it private?" she asked.
"Mostly; there might be a few others there though," I replied.
"Do I have to bring a suit?" she asked.
"Not if you don't want to," I replied, surprised she would ask.
She'd always impressed me as a private person. I had no qualms about nudity, but I had believed that girls from the Bible Belt were taught extreme modesty from about age 2 on. Live and learn, I thought.
.... There is more of this story ...