"She's too cute to be a minute over seventeen." The line from the Chuck Berry song "Little Queenie" was the first thing that came to my mind when I saw her.
I'd taken a day off in the middle of the week to run a bunch of errands and surprised myself by finishing slightly before noon. Since I wasn't very hungry or in the mood for a fancy place, I stopped at Taco Bell on the way home.
The girl was ahead of me in line with two boys. The boys were about her height. Both had dark hair and short pony tails. One had the sides of his head shaved. They were both wearing baggy dark shorts and T-shirts. I didn't look at them too closely. She was the one who grabbed my attention.
She was a little more mature than I'd first thought, at least eighteen, with straight shoulder length blonde hair and pale white skin. Her face was rather ordinary with icy blue eyes set in square Germanic features, pleasing but not spectacularly beautiful. She was fairly tall, probably 5' 10", and quietly muscular, with a tiny waist and flat stomach. Her breasts were the size and shape of half-baseballs.
The thin fabric of her purple tank top clung to her breasts as if sprayed on, clearly outlining her upturned nipples. The tank top ended just below her breasts, leaving her midriff bare. Her tight blue jeans rode low on her hips. In back, two symmetrical holes frayed into the fabric a few inches below her waist revealed tiny white patches of buttock.
My penis was already swelling as I imagined putting my hands and mouth on her lithe body. I doubted if she'd developed much sexual technique. She was at the age when she could please a boy simply by opening her muscular thighs and letting him into her tight young pussy.
While waiting for my order, I tried to be unobtrusive, but I couldn't stop staring at her. She seemed to sense something. A couple of times, I caught her returning my gaze with a pleased half-smile.
The place was crowded and I was disappointed when she and the boys found a table at the far end of the room. All I could see was her gleaming blonde hair and an occasional glimpse of her face. I gulped my ice tea and took another good long look at her while refilling my cup. She and the boys were talking in low intense voices. They finished eating and stood up. I followed her with my eyes as she walked out the door.
The world seemed drab and flat after she disappeared from view. I spent several minutes finishing my now-tasteless meal, threw my trash into the bin and stepped out into the bright sunlight.
She and the boys were standing beside an old car at the far end of the parking lot, obviously arguing. "Fuck you!" I heard her exclaim, just before she stalked away. The taller boy started after her and grabbed her arm. She jerked free and stomped off, ignoring his protests.
Leaving the parking lot, she walked to the edge of the curb, spread her legs, tilted her hips, lifted her chin, inflated her chest and stuck her thumb out. Any man driving past that didn't get a hard-on at the sight was probably dead. I jumped into my sports car and pulled out into the street, stopping beside her. "Going north?" she asked.
"Sure am!" We both knew my answer would have been the same if she'd said she was going to China.
"Great!" She was grinning as she climbed into the passenger seat and gave me directions to her house. Her name was Tracy. As we were driving to the freeway, she mentioned she was finishing her freshman year in college. She looked so young I had trouble believing that, so I asked her a few questions about classes and quickly concluded she was telling the truth.
"So, what's your name?" Tracy asked.
"Bob Johnson."
"Cool!" she answered with a slight giggle. "Like the blues guitar player who inspired all the English musicians. Do you play?"
"Not guitar. I've had a few classical piano lessons."
"I play classical piano, too." Tracy said. "But I'm mostly a rock guitarist. I'm in an all-girl band named 'Fishnet Barbie.'"
"This is a nice car," she said, leaning back luxuriously in the bucket seat. "I'll bet it's a real babe magnet."
"It can be, but I don't really need it for that." Traffic was light and there didn't seem to be any cops, so I took a slight chance. We did the twelve miles to her exit in seven minutes, smoothly passing the other cars as if they were standing still. At the last moment, I maneuvered onto the exit ramp and decelerated smoothly, gliding to a stop at the light.
She licked her lips, impressed in spite of herself. "That was macho," she remarked.
"Naw, just fun." That was a lie. Of course, I was trying to impress her. It seemed to have worked. Her eyes were wide, she was breathing hard and she couldn't seem to take her eyes off me.
Her gaze wandered from my face to my muscular arms and chest, down to my flat belly, lingered on the stiff fabric of the shorts concealing my crotch, checked my legs and moved back to my face.
"Bob, I just realized," she announced. "You're older than you look. Almost thirty."
"Something like that." Her estimate was in the right decade, almost.
"But you're in really good shape . . . for an old guy," she continued.
"Ever heard 'Use it or lose it?'"
"Those are cute shorts," she said, eyeing the bulge in the fabric.
"It's just stiff cloth. They always look like that."
The index finger of her right hand was slowly circling her left nipple. "Yeah," she said huskily. "Turn right at the next corner. It's the fourth house on the left. You can park in the driveway. Dad's in Chicago until Friday and Mom works in San Antonio and only comes home on weekends."
"Mom and Dad are cool," Tracy added casually. "They arranged for me to get on birth control when I started dating boys."
"You want to come in?" she asked after we'd stopped. "I can fix you some ice tea or something."
I followed Tracy through a large living room dominated by a concert grand piano and into the kitchen. She stopped in the middle of the floor and turned to face me. "Should I take my top off now?" she asked directly. Her tone was neither playful nor angry and the expression on her face was neutral.
Halting about three feet away from her, I responded, "Why should I want you to do that?"
"So you can see my tits," she answered. "You've been looking at them every time you had the chance while you drove me here."
