-The Bench
Carl was waiting for his hair to dry. As was his habit after his usual Saturday workout at the gym, he would relax on his favorite bench in a small neighborhood park. On nice days like this one, it only took a few minutes for his short hair to be dry enough so he would feel comfortable donning his motorcycle helmet. A small nondescript car slowed and stopped close by his bench.
The door flung open and a young black girl jumped out. "I'll call you if I need a ride," she said as she was closing the door.
"Okay dear," was the reply. "Have fun on your birthday!"
"Thanks Mom," the girl shouted gaily as the door slammed shut and the car pulled away.
Carl only got a glimpse of the woman driving away, but that glimpse was enough to to catch his interest. She had flowing black hair, a beautiful smile, a trim shapely figure, and carried an air of grace and self confidence.
When the car was out of sight, he turned his attention to the girl. She was short, barely 5 feet, if that. She had on a light simple yellow patterned summer dress that came down past her knees. Her black hair was short, dense, and curly. Her face had a cute impish look to it as she stood and looked around the park. Her gaze finally found Carl and after a moment's hesitation, she walked toward him. Her steps didn't have the grace he assumed her mother had, but she had an air of self confidence. As she approached, he noticed she had a developed figure and he revised his initial estimate from "kid" to "young teen."
"Hi," she said when she got within conversation range. "Have you seen a group of kids about my age around here?" He felt that she was more interested in accessing him than she was interested about the others she was asking about.
Disconcerted by that thought, he glanced around the park. "No, but I only have been here a few minutes."
"I guess I'll have to wait," she said. But she didn't look around for anyone approaching. Instead she looked straight at him. He still had the feeling that she was appraising him. She had a pixie face, sparkling brown eyes, and a crooked closed-mouth smile. She was really cute... the kind of cute that made you want to hug.
When her gaze finally shifted to scan the park, Carl's attention dropped to the cut and style of her dress. At first glance, it looked innocent but the way it wrapped tightly around her waist, it accented the bust... the kind of bust that made you want to hug. He was checking out the delightful "accent" when he realized she was again looking at him. He flushed at being caught staring. Her pixie smile looked a bit smug. Carl felt that she liked knowing she was alluring. Because of her age, he felt a bit guilty when his mind and body responded to her allure.
She looked directly at him. "Say, I know you!" she said suddenly.
"I don't think so," he replied. "I think I would have remembered you."
"Yeah," she said. "You wouldn't recognize me. It was six years ago... exactly... on my 12th birthday!" She paused, then added, "I was little then."
Carl blinked. That was ages ago... just before he went into the army. He looked at her quizzically. "That makes you eighteen," he said with mild disbelief. "And you're still little," he continued, appraising her again in a new light. She looked way younger than 18. "You better have a good ID if you want to get into a R rated movie."
She giggled. "So Carl, when are you going to ask me to join you on your bench?"
Carl blinked. "It's not my bench. Of course you may sit on it."
She gave him a kind of sideways look with her impish smile. "I wasn't asking permission." She shrugged and turned away, scanning the empty park.
He couldn't shake feeling guilty being attracted to her. Except for her figure, she looked closer to 12 than 18... and there are some developed 12 year-olds that would claim adulthood. He suppressed his misgivings. "Would you join me on the bench?" giving her the invitation she wanted.
She turned around displaying a sparkling smile. "Thank you," she said. "I think I will." To Carl's disappointment, she sat on the far end rather than next to him. As she sat down, she looked sideways at him with a closed-mouth grin. The grin conveyed an amused smugness and coupled with the sidelong look from her eyes, the expression was a mixture of coy and flirtatious. Carl could do little but stare for a moment. He was to find out later that smile... that look... was her trademark and it was devastating. She was so dang cute!
He looked around in an attempt to regain his composure. "What about the kids you're waiting for? Are they going to celebrate your birthday?"
"They're late, so maybe not." She shrugged slightly and gave no indication of disappointment.
"I still don't remember you from 12 years ago," he said.
She laughed. "It was 6 years ago when I was twelve. You're not paying attention." Then she smirked a bit. "You're not paying attention... to the conversation, that is." She knew the effect she was having on him and was taunting him.
He felt himself start to flush. "I still don't remember you from 6 years ago."
She laughed lightly and shimmied slightly... so slight it seemed innocent, yet it was effective. "As a matter of fact, I was in a swimsuit then." She laughed as she watched him glance again at her figure. A hint of a smirk crossed her lips and she brazenly gazed down at his crotch. Carl felt relieved that since he was sitting, there was no embarrassing bulge for her to see. However, the fact that she was expecting to get an anatomic reaction from him was a turn-on in itself and he shifted to assure that his reaction would not be noticeable. "She's messing with me," he thought to himself bemused by the realization that he enjoyed it.
"Sorry. Six years is a long time. I still don't remember," he finally responded.
"My brothers and I were swimming at the Miller Resort. You were lifeguard."
"Oh yeah. That little girl was you?" As he asked the question, he remembered the incident...
He was lifeguard at Miller's Luxury Resort. He remembered them as it had a predominately white clientele and she and her three brothers were the only blacks in the pool. A group of teens took it upon themselves to torment them, splashing, bumping into them, etc. The leader happened to be the son of a good friend of Carl's boss, and he felt rules didn't apply to him. Regardless, Carl kicked them out of the pool area. He then went over to the young girl and told her to call him if anyone bothered her or her brothers again...
"Yes," she replied shaking him out of his remembrance. "I was that girl. I remember hating you at the time."