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“So are you a ‘lover'?” I asked. She looked at me and asked, “Are you a ‘lover’?” “I can be,” I replied. My country girl smiled, as she unsnapped the button on her jeans. “I need to lose some weight,” she casually replied, pulling her shirt tail from her jeans. “Nah,” I replied, “I think you look fine.” She pulled her shirt up, exposing her abdomen. “I need to lose about ten pounds,” she shot back, patting her bare stomach. I slipped my arm across the console and on to her stomach. “No,” I argued back, circling my hand on her flat tummy, “Everything looks and feels fine to me.” She silently unfastened the buttons on her shirt, allowing it to part, exposing her gorgeous breasts tucked into her 38D cup brassiere. “My ex said I had a titty-dancer body,” she said, “but I never had the guts to dance.” “Do you work out?” I asked, as I rested my hand on her abdomen. “Sometimes,” she replied, shifting in her seat, dropping one of her outstretched legs down from the window perch. The. Was I ready to break the shackles or would I be happier knowing her as I always did, an enigma. The door was opened before I could knock and I was ushered in by her. The room was simple, just one single bed, one cupboard and a writing desk with chair; but it was very neat and clean. She was standing in the middle of the room asking me to sit but I just stood there dumbfounded looking at that gorgeous face...the face that had avoided me all these days; the face that I had designed and redesigned in my mind. But this one was even more beautiful than what I had ever imagined. Eventually, I did sit down, her words almost imperceptible to my mind. She went in the kitchen and returned with two cups of tea and sat opposite me on the chair. I took the cup from her hand, avoiding her eyes and started seeping the tea. She was smiling at me. “Are you afraid of me?” she asked. “Don't be, I won't eat you.”Finally I decided to get control of myself and speak. “Tea is nice,” I mumbled and she.
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