Author's Note: This story has been posted to Literotica.Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.
Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
**..**
"That your real hair color?" she heard from behind her.
Turning, she saw a young man so handsome he took her breath away. She stood, gawking at the handsome young man until he repeated his question. Her hand went to her knee length carrot orange hair.
"Can't look at all my freckles and tell?" she asked.
"It's beautiful," he smiled. "Line's moving."
Turning, she took the three steps closer to the plywood shack. She felt a light tug on her hair and turned to once more gape at the smiling young man. His eyes were hidden by sunglasses but his smile seemed genuine.
"Hi. I'm Garret," he said. "Line's moving again. You really should pay more attention."
"Well I would, but some butt head keeps distracting me," she giggled, turning and taking one step forward.
Again, she felt a tug at her hair. She turned and put her small fists on her bony hips. She glared up at the handsome young man.
"What!" she demanded, attempting an aggrieved tone?
"My name's Garrett. What's yours?" he asked.
"Why?" she asked.
"So I don't have to run around calling you 'Hey You, with the beautiful hair' all the time," he said.
"Sammi," she said.
"Sammy? Oh no, no, no; you? You're too beautiful to be a Sammy. It's your turn. You really need to pay attention," he said.
"Then quit bothering me," Sammi said, a little more forcefully than she intended, whirling around and stepping up to the counter. "Hi! Um, a, um, a blue raspberry, um, medium."
"Blue, what's that taste like?" he asked.
"Go away, I'm not talking to you," she said, digging the money out of her purse.
"I want to try it," he declared.
"I'm not talking to you," she stated and accepted the Styrofoam cup.
"Aw, but Sammy!" he wheedled. "Hi Kirsten; give me a black cherry, medium. Add some condensed milk."
"What's the milk do?" she asked, stuffing a spoonful of the sweet shaved ice treat into her mouth.
"Huh? You talking to me?" Garrett smiled at Sammi. "Takes that sweetness, kicks it up a notch."
"Huh," she said, then wandered across the gravel yard to a vacant bench.
"Let you taste mine if you let me taste yours," Garrett offered, sitting on the bench next to her.
"I'm not talking to you," she giggled.
Her thoughts were a jumbled mess. Being five feet tall and weighing ninety three pounds, cursed with long stringy red hair, a multitude of freckles and a buck toothed smile on a skinny face, Sammi was not used to model-handsome curly blond headed gods talking to her. Her chest was a 24AA, her waist was a 23 and her hips and boney buttocks were a 25 with hardly any swell to her backside. Her arms and legs were spindly freckled toothpicks and her feet were a size 10; far too large for her body.
"So, is Sammy short for Samantha?" Garrett asked, holding out a spoonful of his snow cone. "Ah!"
"Ah," Sammi said, accepting the offered spoonful.
He'd managed to scoop some of the condensed milk with the dark purple shaved ice. Sammi's deep brown eyes opened wide as the flavors melded in her mouth. She looked up at him, brown eyes wide.
"That, that's, wow!" she agreed.
"Now, let me see what a blue raspberry tastes like," he asked and she scooped up a sizeable spoonful of her snow cone.
"MM, meh," he shrugged.
"Trade you," Sammi offered.
"Uh. No. But I'll let you have another spoon," he said.
"Okay," she agreed as he dug up another spoonful of the snow cone.
"If. I can have your phone number," he bartered.
"What?" she asked, not sure she'd heard right.
"Oh. Let me guess. You, you already got a boyfriend," Garrett said, holding out the spoon.
"Huh?" Sami asked, accepting the mouthful.
"Lucky bastard. Tell him I hate him," Garrett said, taking another bite of his snow cone.
"Huh? Who? You hate who?" Sammi asked.
"Your boyfriend. I hate, oh! Oh, wait. Um, girlfriend?" Garrett said, sucking some of the cold syrup through his short straw.
"You serious? God no! Ew! I mean, not, not that there's anything wrong with, but no, no girlfriend. No boyfriend either," Sammi said quickly.
"SO. I can have your phone number?" Garrett asked.
"You, you really want, why?" Sammi asked, stuffing some more of her blue raspberry snow cone into her mouth. "Next time? Next time I'm getting that; the black cherry one."
"Yeah, I really want your phone number. You like Mexican? They just opened that Rio Del Sol next to the bank," Garrett said.
"Right, right across from the movie place?" Sammi guessed.