In retrospect this wasn't one of my proudest moments, although it wasn't like I was taking advantage of a child because the chunky cashier I was with was almost 20. My being in my early 60's made it a little strange, but Emma had come with me of her own free will. I merely offered the ride.
Getting the cherubic cutie to where we were that night, standing in the dark by a tree on the side of the road where I had pulled off to as we approached her house, was the result of a long concerted effort on my part to seduce the cashier of the little store in town. Had I gotten this far because of my suave and slick technique or because Emma Rossi was as lonely as I found myself was something I didn't know or even care about.
All I knew for certain that after kissing Emma a couple of times, when I managed to get my hand under the elastic waistband of the teen's shorts and felt my fingers raking through a jungle of hair that was every bit as dense as I had suspected, I was in heaven.
"Oh Emma," I hissed as I felt the wetness around her thickly thatched opening. "I was right, wasn't I? You do have a lot of hair down there don't you?"
Emma's face was frozen in fear, perhaps wondering how after months of innocent conversation that had gradually become more and more risque in nature, the plump princess found herself with an old man's hand down her pants while he probed for the opening.
"Mr. Taylor," Emma gasped, my name coming out like the girl was standing shivering in a freezer.
"It's okay," I assured the black haired girl as I managed to get a tip of a finger between what felt like very swollen labia. "I told you that I loved girls with a lot of hair down there, and anywhere else for that matter. Doesn't this feel good?"
"I have to gooooo home," Emma insisted as she leaned back against the tree, the odd way she said the word 'go' caused by my long bony finger entering her, her pussy surprisingly tight as I dipped deeper.
"It would be nicer if we were in a bed doing this. That way I could see how pretty you really are and get a good look at how hairy your pussy really is," I mentioned, my tackiness ignored by the teen who was alternately trying to scale the tree to get away and then grind into my finger.
"OH!" Emma cried softly as her thrusts into my hand were no longer subtle, and as I burrowed my face into the nape of her neck and kissed her, her sex clamped around my finger like she was trying to crush it. Then I was pretty much holding her up against the tree as her body convulsed savagely for a time before the gal finally went limp.
"I knew you would like that. Honey, you came so good," I assured her as I managed to pull my hand out of her shorts. "You needed that. I do too."
My hand had taken Emma's wrist and brought it to the rather prominent tent my erection had made in my baggy trousers, and although she recoiled when her pudgy hand made contact with the bulge I was about to pull my zipper down and let her feel my cock in the flesh when she pulled away.
"Really have to go," Emma said as she looked down the road in the direction of her house where her mother was supposedly waiting for her.
"Okay," I said as we went back to the car, and as I opened her door I asked, "You're mad at me aren't you Emma?"
"Have to go," Emma repeated, and so I drove her to her house, and after she left without returning my "good night" she hurried into the house, her stocky but shapely calves and full rump the last I saw of her that night.
Driving home, I brought the hand that had been down the teen's panties to my nose, inhaling the sweetly sour smell of her sex, and by the time I was pulling into my driveway I was sucking on the digit that had entered her.
"A couple years without sex makes an old pervert crazy," I announced to the empty car before going inside, but even if the cashier never talked to me again at least I could say that I got to touch a teenager's pussy one last time.
***
As was my custom, I went down to the store like I did every one of the six days a week Emma worked, even though I rarely had an urgent need for anything I bought. The full pantry was worth it to me because I got to chat with Emma as she rang me out, the length of our conversation and the topic varying depending on whether the store was busy or not.
Emma looked up when the bell on the door heralded my entry, and my smile and wave got a blush and a nod in return. Not exactly the greeting I had become used to, but I guess when the customer had fingered you to orgasm the evening before, it's a cashier's option on how to deal with it.
I pushed the miniature cart up and down the three aisles, putting a few things in the basket while watching the chubby gal work from afar while waiting until the other customers were gone before approaching.
My method of deducing that Emma Ross had an abundance of pubic hair had been proven right again, because all of the signs were there. The nice dusting of fine black hair on her forearms, the gentle swirl of down around the fronts of her ears, and the faintest hint of a moustache only noticeable because her hair was dark had all pointed to what I had felt last night.
I moved up to the counter where Emma was ready for the next customer, her crimson uniform top with the "Shur-Fine" patch over one breast and "EMMA" on a tag over her other breast. The breasts seemed small for a girl as sturdily built as Emma, and her bust measurement was much less than her hips were, but that didn't bother me a bit.
Emma greeted me like she had done when I first set my sights on her. Cautiously and almost skittishly ringing up my order and barely answering my lively banter, it was clear our dynamic had changed.
I watched Emma put the things in the paper bag this old time store still used, disappointed that of the two uniform tops Emma had she was wearing the more snug one. The other shirt had sleeves that were a little looser, allowing me to look under her arm when she raised it, although it was so dark down there that I couldn't tell whether that was hair or darkness under her arm.
"Thank you Mr. Taylor," I was told as Emma put the change and a receipt in my palm, and then it was time for me to go.
Out in the car I put the change in the little receptacle on the dashboard and was about to crumple up the receipt when something caught me eye. It wasn't my receipt but a blank piece of the register tape with loopy letters written on it.
Mr. Taylor.
I get out at 8.
Emma XOXO
I was parked near the store at 7:30.
***
The minute I saw Emma step out of the store just as somebody killed the lights inside, I zoomed up and parked on the side of the store so nobody would see her getting into some senior citizen's car. Emma saw me and came over right away.
"Didn't want your co-worker to see you getting in my car," I explained after she buckled up.
"Oh. I thought maybe you - never mind," Emma replied but I got it.
"No, I would love for people to see me with you," I assured the teen. "It's just that you have to work here and I figured you would get teased about getting in the car of an old pervert."
"Is that what you are Mr. Taylor?" Emma asked as I prepared to pull away from the store. "A pervert?"
