Many things probably combined on that day; midlife crisis, a sex life that started later than the average for the time, and a consistent track record of lovers significantly older than me. I was in a rare mood of self-confidence and snark. So when the very young girl behind the counter of the nights chosen fast food chain greeted me, and I felt that spark of possibility, I took extra notice.
"Good evening sir, how may I help you," she said politely.
"With anything you want," I replied rather weakly. Ok, so self-confidence and snark didn't necessarily grant me any addition charm. She smiled and laughed slightly regardless though, which only served to encourage me. I ordered some sort of combo and waited patiently for her to gather up the component parts.
As she puttered back and forth, I looked her over more... thoroughly. To most guys, she would be average... young, and with all the benefits of youth... but average. Her hair was a dirty, light brown color, which to most women would serve as a base for something grander obtained from the local salon. It was long, but pulled back in a severe pony tail that did nothing to help her somewhat round face. Her eyes were a very pale blue, almost grey color, and like her hair, did little to stand out. Her breasts were an A cup, barely... I suspected she was the athletic type as her arms and legs also had a toned look to them, but that, again, could simply be youth. Her waist was not particularly thin, her stomach had a slight, but noticeable plumpness, and her hips were also a bit too wide.
When she started to fill a brightly colored cardboard container with fries, she turned and I quickly forgot about her hips. Her ass was glorious, large, round, plump, and easily her best feature. As my gaze lingered, she turned and looked over her shoulder at me and got me red-handed as it were. But rather than an upturned nose or a dismissive toss of her head and hair, she smiled with all the snark I had just imagined I had. She finished bagging up my order and came back to the counter and ran my credit card.
"Thank you sir, please come and see us again soon," she quipped with that same snarky smile.
"Well, I'll definitely come back to see you again," I quickly responded with wink.
I started patronizing that particular fast food chain weekly, and eventually twice a week. Our conversations were always brief, but playful and flirtatious. I worried she was too young, that I was old enough to know better, but I never stopped, and eventually I learned she was 18, almost 19. Each visit ratcheted up the tension between us, and the banter went from playful to aggressive, and that spark grew to a smoldering fire. Then, after three months and a week, she was gone. I asked the supervisor and learned she had quit as she was graduating soon and moving on to college. The pang of guilt hit me then... a high school student... maybe it was better she was gone before that tension was broken by something we might regret. I still visited the restaurant though, probably unconsciously hoping to see her again, or just revisiting my memories of her.
And just when I had given up a few weeks later and decided on one last visit, she appeared. The restaurant dining room was empty and she stood facing away from me near the counter. There were two guys arguing near the drink and condiment station while she talked with the supervisor about a final check. She was wearing an incredible dress... it was short like a mini-skirt on the bottom, bright blue, covered in sequins, and lacking any back whatsoever. The material draped at the bottom right at the top of that wonderful ass. Her hair was loose and tumbled in waves down her back. She was gorgeous and thanks to the naivety of youth, had no idea. However, the entire effect was ruined by the fact that she was wearing a bra.
I quietly snuck up behind her and whispered in her ear, "you look amazing, but I don't think you're supposed to wear a bra with that dress."
She was surprised and jumped slightly, but recognized me immediately without turning and whispered back to me. "I know right? I told my mother the same thing, but she insisted I wear it since I insisted on wearing the dress. My boyfriend said I looked like a hooker. My mom isn't around now though, and it latches in the back, why don't you remove it for me."
I couldn't see her face completely, but I could sense that all too familiar snarky smile. She was challenging... pushing like no time had passed at all. I didn't even hesitate in moving my hands to her back. Some of her hair was in the way, and would cover my actions if need be. She stiffened slightly at my initial touch but did not pull away. I quickly unlatched the strap and pulled the bra from around her chest and neatly folded it into one pocket.
"Much better," I whispered. "You really are beautiful and your boyfriend is an idiot," I said as I let one hand caress its way down her back. She shivered, but she took half a step back toward me. "Why don't you tell your friends to wait outside," I continued as my hand started to slip beneath the material at the top of her ass. She jumped even more at that touch, but again, did not pull away. I immediately discovered she was wearing a thong as I encountered more skin than panty material.
"Guys, this will probably take a while, why don't you go next door and pick up everything on the grocery list so we can get back," she said a little too loudly to the two young men. My hand sank completely beneath her dress and gently squeezed one delicious cheek as her friends left through the door. As soon as they were gone, she turned and kissed me. Young and eager, that's all I remember of it. No patience, no build up, no variation, just hunger and passion. My hand was still resting on her ass while we kissed and I was only able to break away from her by squeezing again and making her jump.
