The air outside was surprisingly fresh and cool after the smoke and sweat of the bar.The air outside was surprisingly fresh and cool after the smoke and sweat of the bar. There were a lot of people milling about, some looking for other people, some looking to make purchases of various chemical or fleshly kinds. Maggie caught my hand and led me out into the parking lot. "Here's my car." She said, sitting on the hood of a dark brown Dodge Daytona. She put those red snakeskin high heels on the front bumper, her knees high and slightly parted, one palm flat for balance on the curved metal beside her. What a show. I was impressed. "Nice car." I leaned against the hood, very close to her, my side touching her bent leg. She didn't move away. "Thanks. I like to drive really fast sometimes." She shrugged. "I guess I get sort of impulsive every once in a while. Do you?" She looked at me with those big brown eyes for a moment and then took a sip of her drink. "I think I'm getting more impulsive all the time." I took a big gulp of gin and almost choked on a stray ice cube. "You, um, live around here?" "No, not really." She laughed and pointed at the tag on the front of her car. The state we were in sure wasn't the Land of Lincoln. "Oh. Heh." "You know those two I was with in there? That's my sister and her husband. I'm visiting." She shifted slightly and leaned back on her elbows so that the opening in her shirt gaped wide. She was wearing a black lace bra, and it made her tits look really white under the glaring lamps of the parking lot. They looked round, like they would be just a little soft to the touch. There was a lot of cleft there, and as I stood there thinking about some interesting uses for it, I realized that the old gallant reflex was starting to poke its head up, so to speak. "I live with my uncle." I said after a moment, remembering that it was my turn to say something. |