"Hi, can I help you?"
Herman couldn't answer. He was mesmerized. His eyes were moist moons, his jaw was slack, and his palms were suddenly sweaty. He was literally struck dumb by the divine creature before him.
"Welcome to Taco Bell... Can I help you?" she repeated.
Herman stuttered out an "I... I... I..." but could get no further. She was unbelievable!
Under five feet tall, she was a mixed girl with a pug nose, freckles, and a boyish set to her jaw. But there was nothing boyish about her body. Absurdly large, firm tits strained against her plain black Taco Bell shirt, and he could see a pleasing curve to her backside to match. She was a pocket goddess, a tiny half-black Venus.
She tilted her head impatiently, looking at the awkward, overweight white man in front of her. What the hell was wrong with this guy? She tucked some of her kinky hair back into her Taco Bell baseball cap and waited.
She was starting to think that maybe he was special needs when he blurted out, "A number eight, crunchy. And... and a coke."
She scrunched up her cute little nose as she punched the buttons. What a weirdo! She had tagged him as soon as he walked in with his stained pink t-shirt stretched over his big belly, his camo cargo shorts, and his white socks pulled up all the way. Oh, and off brand tennis shoes.
And those large deer-in-the-headlights eyes. As she glanced up from the keypad, she caught him staring at her tits.
Her stupid, ridiculous tits. God how she hated them. She had been a tom-girl from way back. She hated girls and their gossipy bullshit. She had always hung out with the guys. Wrestled and fought. Blew shit up with firecrackers. Cussed and spitted and farted with the best of them.
And she had always been accepted. One of the guys, just how she liked it. Then, half way through her sixteenth year, the traitors had shown up. The mosquito bites on her chest had started to grow. First just little mounds that were tender all the time, then they grew to the size of lemons, then oranges, and by the time she turned seventeen she was lugging around these swollen grapefruits!
And everything had changed. She was no longer one of the boys. Her large firm knockers could not be ignored. The fact that she had also grown a round, perfect bubble-butt was just icing on the shit cake.
The boys got nervous and agitated around her. They stopped telling her raunchy jokes, and started making her into a raunchy joke. Slowly but surely she was ejected from the sacred fraternity of boys. And it broke her heart.
Instead, they wanted to touch her. Squeeze her. Kiss her. But how could she let them? These were her friends, her buddies! They were like brothers to her. She would never let them touch her or see her naked, she was just too ashamed of her silly cartoon-like body. She felt awkward and top-heavy and ugly.
Then it had happened. Her best friend Mikey had tried to kiss her. She'd made a joke of it, to try to play it off, but he had been insistent. He'd kept pawing at her boobs and slobbering all over her neck, and when he reached for her crotch, it was too much. She slammed a knee into his crotch and ran. Her stupid fucking body had almost gotten her raped! By her best friend!
So for a year now she had been pretty much friendless. She still couldn't stand the company of girls, and boys were no longer an option. She had spent her eighteenth birthday last week alone and depressed. She'd sat in her apartment and said "Yay. Now I can vote and go to war," to an empty room.
And now here was this ugly fat white dude gawking at her carnival boobs while he thought she wasn't looking.
Soon the creep's food arrived and he shambled off to eat. She forgot him almost immediately as she took a drive-thru order.
But he did not forget her. Good lord no. Her image was forever burned into his retinas. Those perfectly shaped, gravity-defying tits! Jiggling ever so slightly with each motion. Rising and falling with each breath,
And that cute little serious face! Not quite angry, not quite sad... he couldn't figure her out, but he knew she was one in a million. She clearly didn't know how perfect she was. A true diamond in the rough.
He sat munching his tacos, knowing he had plenty of time. His daughter Liz had just started early morning weekend lessons at a nearby ballet studio. It was pretty prestigious and thus worth getting up early. His ex, the wicket bitch of the west, had dumped the duty on him, but he didn't mind. More time with Liz was always good.
Suddenly his thoughts were scattered by the appearance of the dusky little goddess. She began doing morning prep for the dining area. Spraying and wiping down the tables. Cleaning all the large windows. Sweeping the floors. Herman was in heaven.
He watched with hot eyes as the hot little tom-boy went from table to table, spraying and bending over to vigorously wipe them down.
Each circular motion set her massive tits jiggling. On her tiny frame, the effect was mesmerizing. Although she wore an unflattering uniform shirt, there was no hiding the enticing sway of firm tit-flesh.
Since her shirt was tucked in, he could see she had a slim waist, and although her work slacks were clearly Wal Mart junk, they could not hide the swell of her hips and her taut, muscular ass cheeks.
Once, she bent over to scrape something off the floor, and he was treated to a full-on view of her perfect ass. It rebelled and pushed against containment in the cheap polyester blend with a sensual vengeance. It too jiggled ever so slightly with each motion of her upper body. Below and between the cheeks nestled a plump little mound that was thrown into stark relief by her bent-over position. He couldn't help but gasp a little at the sheer beauty of it all.
He shook his head. She was the perfect little package. Short and sulky. Cute button nose complete with perpetual scowl. Extra-large cone-tipped tits. A perfectly shaped apple-ass. And every inch of her firm but supple curves.
He sat and finished his breakfast in ecstasy. It was the best he'd felt in years, since his divorce in fact. The raw sexual woman-ness of this girl was both enflaming and calming. In some way, this ultra-sexy little woman was awakening something he had thought long dead. For the first time in years, he felt the man inside him stirring, waking up.
Bonnie went about her morning prep as usual, but it was impossible to ignore the creeper's eyes all over her body. Once, when she bent over, she actually imagined she could feel ghost hands caressing her full buttocks.
As she began wiping the windows, he no longer even pretended to look away. He was captivated. As she reached up to get the tops of the windows, her amazing firm melons lifted too, swaying gently in time with the motion of her hands. It was hypnotizing.
Herman did his best to undress her with her eyes. As she stood on tip-toes to reach up high, he tried to imagine what her naked tits would look like. He decided large, dark areolae, contrasting with the smooth caramel of her lush tit flesh. Thick, proud nipples. It was hard to tell under her industrial strength bra. She would have a tiny waist, with a slight womanly bulge to her tummy. Probably an outie belly button.
And that ass. God that ass. Round, perfect globes of firm caramel flesh. The kind that would wobble like jello when slapped. Succulent and smooth.
Bonnie couldn't believe the old perv. Had he no shame? She longed to be done with morning prep. He was making her feel dirty, like she was naked or something!
She hated her body. It was an embarrassment to her. And yet this weirdo was making her feel exposed, violated. Her cheeks flushed with shame.
