Hunt Club Interlude: Taryn; Gas Station

Taryn turned into the lonely gas station and brought her Spyker to a stop in front of the old pumps. The station seemed frozen in time sometime before the first oil crisis; the owners had never invested in self-service pumps. Taryn had popped the fuel cover and climbed out of the car before the fact registered on her. At about the same time a teenage attendant reached her.

“Fill ‘er up; premium,” she instructed the kid who stood staring at her.

“Yes Ma’am; right away,” he said, as his attention snapped back to business. The kid fumbled the fuel cap as the exotic car and Taryn’s figure vied for his attention.

“Call me Miss, do I look old enough to be a Ma’am? Do you have any Red Bull inside?”

“Yes, ma’am – I mean Miss; we’ve got everything,” he said to her back, since Taryn had already started heading for the shop.

It was no wonder the kid had a hard time focusing; he had probably never seen anyone like Taryn before except in the racks behind the cashier. Jason watched her head to the shop, indeed, he completely forgot to start filling the car until the door had closed behind her. Topping out at no more than five-two in her stocking feet, Taryn’s petite body was perfectly proportioned. Trim muscular legs that seemed much longer than should be possible for a girl of her height ended with hips that left no doubt she was a girl. Her twenty-inch waist would have been impossibly small on a bigger girl, but gave even her petite body a stunning hour-glass shape. High, firm boobs filled out her cropped leather top. She walked with a natural ease that belied the four-inch heels on her boots. The boots themselves were high, coming to her mid-thigh. As such, they constituted the most substantial piece of her outfit. Her low-rise shorts hugged her skin like they were painted on, and were so short the lower curve of her firm ass-cheeks were left bare.