Carol & Patty

CAROL & PATTY
Carol could see the crotch of the girl clearly, sitting at a small table in the ice cream store where she was enjoying a butterscotch sundae. The girl was perhaps five feet away, sitting and talking with another girl. Carol knew the girl slightly because she lived in the same suburban neighborhood, and Carol had seen her walking by her house occasionally. Her name was Patty, Carol learned when one of the girl’s friends had said her name when she laughed at something the girl said.

Carol watched the girl closely, and soon realized she was fully aware of her exposure. Not only aware, but intentionally making it obvious. She would laugh and giggle and squirm in the small white chair, spreading her knees in a way that would, to some, appear accidental in her exuberance. But Carol had seen those sparkling eyes peek at her from time to time.

Patty was a beautiful girl, slender with honey-blonde hair and creamy skin. Her personality was bubbly and outgoing. She was a typical California girl, perhaps a bit more. She was well tanned, and her body was exquisite.

At the moment, she wore a very tight light-blue T-shirt. Her small, but succulent breasts were molded, outlined by the garment, and from the way her nipples protruded, Carol knew very well that she was not wearing a bra. Her breasts were sweetly shaped. The skirt she wore must have came from the sixties, it was so short. But then, if any girl had the body for a micro skin, it was Patty. Her legs were long, slender, inviting to the eye. The golden color of them testified to her love of sunshine.

Gazing toward Patty, Carol saw the girl pretend to lose her balance on the chair. One leg shot out, and the whole of Patty’s crotch became blatantly visible. The crotch of her panties seemed as tight as her T-shirt, Carol thought. Her panties were a pale green.

Carol found herself gazing steadily into Patty’s dark eyes. There was heat in those eyes, she realized, and she wondered if Patty was really the tease she appeared to be. Those eyes were unashamed, quite bold. Patty moved the pink tip of her tongue over her full lips.

Carol shuddered and turned her eyes down, finishing her ice cream, stood up, and walked to her car. When Carol got home she appreciated the fact that the house was comfortably cool. She poured herself a glass of wine, and was sipping it and twisting the dial on the radio when the door bell rang. Going to the door, puzzling over who it could be, she opened it to find the girl she had been admiring standing there with a big smile on her face.

“Why, hello, Patty,” she said, surprised to see the girl. “What brings you to my doorstep?”

Patty replied that she had noticed Carol staring at her and was curious why an older woman would look at her like that. Carol blushed, but felt a tingle as she realized that the young girl had actually noticed her and was interested in her.
She invited Patty in and offered her a glass of wine, which the girl accepted. Carol realized that she shouldn’t be offering wine to a minor, but from the eager way Patty accepted the glass and took a sip, she knew this was not the girl’s first taste of the fruit of the vine.

Carol felt a strangeness within her, a warmth that was at the same time alien and exciting. Patty sat on the couch, her legs were crossed, the creamy thighs revealed. Carol joined her on the couch, and once again they gazed boldly at each other.

“You like me?” Patty asked in a whispery voice.

“Of course I like you, honey,” Carol replied. “I think you’re lovely,” her voice oddly throaty.

“I saw the way you looked at me in the ice cream parlor, Carol,” Patty said with that disturbing voice, her dark eyes bold as ever.

Carol jumped.