My given name is Michelle, but everyone who knows me calls me Mikie. I'm short, just under 5', and I weigh 105 pounds. I'm red haired with the pale skin and freckles that come with that. I have small breasts, think A cup, but my nipples get really long and hard. I have a superb ass. All that working out makes that happen. My hair is cut short, and my pussy is shaved. People think I am butch. I guess I am, if you can be butch and love a hard cock deep in your pussy. When I want a guy's dick, I tell him. I usually get it.
I live in a small town, so I have to be careful about my sex partners. I have a small business. I don't want everyone to know I am a horny slut. I met Anya when we worked together on the spring folk music festival. My little town has some sort of festival every month from April through September, and a Christmas festival as well. We've become a tourist town -- and a volunteer town. Everyone pitches in. I do the folk music festival in May, the boat race in July and the car show in September.
Anya and I hit it off. She was new to town and joined just to make friends. We worked the credential table together. So, we had lot of time to talk. Frankly, I find women a pain in the ass most of the time. We make things way more difficult than they are. We introduce layers of meaning that just aren't there. And we can be bitches without provocation.
I knew that Anya and I would be friends when I said, after a second 10-hour shift on credentials, "How is it that Anya is such a cool name, but Tanya is the name of a trailer-park whore?" She laughed and told me I was fabulous, that she was happy to have made such a great, unique friend. I'm not sure I am a great friend. Unique? Probably. But great? I haven't had enough close female friends to say for sure.
Let me describe Anya. First, she is incredibly intelligent, without being showy about it. It wasn't until the second day of working with her that I learned she had a masters' degree in English literature. "That didn't get me my job," she said. "I just talked my way into the marketing job at the factory. Don't tell." But she knows much about many things, like I do. Conversation with her was verbal jousting. What a rush!
Did I mention that she is beautiful? She's only about 5'4" and most of that is leg. For a short woman, she has the longest legs I have ever seen. She is of pale complexion but with an olive undertone, with long, curly dark hair that cascades over her shoulders. She has dark eyes with incredibly long lashes. She has full lips which she accentuates with red lipstick. She has long, slender fingers which she uses to punctuate her conversation.
It was warm that weekend, so her incredibly short, tight shorts showed me that she had a great, tight ass. Her low cut top showed me that she had very pretty breasts, a bit bigger than mine, and the lack of a bra showed me at various times that she could have very erect nipples.
All of my friends are guys. I belch and fart right along with them. And I even choose a few of them to fuck. Those I have chosen all say I fuck like a guy would, if he had a pussy. But all of a sudden, I'm friends with a beautiful girl?
But Anya was great. No drama; no girl whining. Just a very intelligent woman who was a fabulous conversationalist and happened to be beautiful. I suggested we go on a picnic the next weekend. I have a client who owns very secluded property to which he has given me access. It seemed like a great place to get to know my new friend better. Anya accepted readily.
She came to my house the next Sunday morning late. We packed everything in the 'boot' of my '74 Midget MG and put the top down. We crossed the bridge and I drove fast along the curvy winding road along the river bottoms.
I have to admit that I am a bit of a nudist. When I drive my MG with the top down, I like to have my top down. I hate bras. I love to have my little titties bared to the wind as I drive. I love the feeling of my nipples hardening in the wind. I looked over at Anya and realized that she had on one of those tan-through tops, and no bra. Her nipples were already hard. "I wish I had thought of the tan-through top," I said as I pulled over. I pulled my t-shirt over my head, revealing my bare chest. "You can't get more tan than me. It's not fair."
"Mikie, I'm Greek. I start out more tan than you, Irish girl. My olive skin may seem pale now, but a little sun will bronze me. You aren't going to win this one. But if it makes you feel better, I'll go topless too," and she peeled off her top.