"Dehs ma lil filly, how you doin dis foine mornin' " a familiar voice boomed behind me.
Robin was swaggering towards me, wearing an open short sleeve leather jacket with a white wife beater underneath. I could see the outline of her slender cut frame.
It was easy to forget she was a woman as well, even her pert AA breasts seemed to overlie her almost square pecs. Her skinny jean seem taught over her muscular legs developed from years of horse back riding.
"How are you, Ms. Mathers..." I greeted more confidently this time.
"Sheeeeeit, call me Robbie," she said cutting me off, "do me a fava shug, do a lil pirouette fo' me."
I started blushing again, I was in a sleeveless denim sundress that worked every curve I had. The hem was just above my knees and the top barely held in my heaving bosom. I am usually more conservative than this, but something about her lowered my guard. I slowly spun around as she bit her bottom lip.
"Sho' nuff, you da best filly in da show rang," she teased.
"Do you flatter all the girls you hang out with?"
"Only da ones pritty nuff to get da honor of trottin' round town wit me."
I giggled, embarrassed by her flirting. Normally I'd be livid being compared to a show pony, but her confidence defanged my usual sharp tongue. She took me by the crook of my arm and brought me in close, escorting me to her Escalade. After helping me into my seat she got in and drove off into Downtown Nashville.
First place we stopped at was my favorite restaurant, The Sugar Cube, to get a full course BBQ Platter. She made sure to seat us at a private 2 person booth, hidden away from the prying eyes of the busybody church lady crowd, scandalized by what probably appeared to them to be a skinny black thug and his busty working girl.
Honestly, I was immune to the glares from those old battle axes, lost in deep conversation with my companion. She managed to coax more of my life story out of me in those 2 hours than the last half dozen dates did.