admin

Teena took the guy's cum on her cheek, being careful to brush her hair out of the way as he tensed to shoot. She sat up and sank back in the passenger seat of the Seville as the guy, without a word, tucked it in, zipped up, and pulled the car back onto the road. Teena used a couple of tissues to clean her face up, eyeing herself in her compact, and looking a bit, *quot;Oh, well, that will have to do for now.*quot;

Fifteen minutes later the guy spoke for the first time. *quot;I gotta gas up the car.*quot;

The Seville slowed down and eased over beside a pump. Teena gathered up a bag from the backseat, opened the passenger door, and stepped out.

*quot;Just be a minute, Hon. A girl's gotta make herself pretty for her man, ya know.*quot; Snap went Teena's gum as she tap tapped around the side of the building on her sling-back high heels in short strides restricted by her tight skirt.

Twenty minutes later, a door at the side of the building opened, and Teena came tap tapping back toward the gas pumps. Halfway to the pumps, though, she Samsun Escort came to a stop and just gawked. No Seville at the pumps. She swiveled her bottle blonde head in both directions. No Seville in front of the station or over by the air hose. No Seville over in front of what looked like a mom and pop diner next to the gas station. Her eyes went back to the gas pumps, willing an old red Cadillac Seville to materialize there. But there still was no Seville parked at the pump. What was parked at the pump was a beat-up old pink Samsonite two-suiter suitcase. Teena's suitcase; sitting up on its hinges right in the road beside the pump.

Teena's eyes narrowed and she surveyed the landscape again. Two men were plastered at the grimy window over at the gas station office, staring at her real hard. But when she met their stares, they looked embarrassed and their faces disappeared from the window.

Teena stood there for several minutes, waiting for reality to set in. But the reality that was setting in Samsun Escort Bayan wasn't the one she was looking for. At length, she gave a sigh, sat down on the suitcase, and dug around in her purse for a cigarette and an emery board.

An hour later, the sun was getting pretty hot and Teena was still sitting on her suitcase beside the gas pumps. She'd smoked her last two cigarettes and filed all three offending hot-red-polished nails nearly to the quick. She was just fishing around in her empty cigarette pack one more time, without any real hope of finding anything, really, when one of the station attendants, the younger and better-looking one, approached her with shuffling steps and his eyes plastered to the ground like he was avoiding stepping in a puddle of oil or something, and she just waved him away with a devil-make-care lilting laugh.

*quot;He'll be back in a minute. He's just gone on an errand. Everything's fine, Hon. Thanks. I'll just set here a spell. Say, you don't happen to have Escort Samsun a ten spot you can let me have to visit the diner over there, do you? A lady's got to eat.*quot; She smiled a hopeful smile.

*quot;Sorry,*quot; he said. *quot;Maybe Ralph can help.*quot;

*quot;Or a cigarette?*quot;

Still not looking directly at her, his face beet red, the attendant pointed to Teena's empty cigarette pack with one hand and the nearby gas pump with the other and then made a mushroom-cloud gesture over his head with both hands.

*quot;Sure, Hon,*quot; Teena responded with her best happy camper laugh.

*quot;Ralph wondered if you'd want to come inside,*quot; the attendant asked.

Teena was leaning over the desk, looking outside, at the pumps, while Ralph stood behind her, hands on her hips, skirt brushed up to her waist in back, panties on the desk at her elbow, and fucked her from behind. They had agreed on spotting Teena to dinner at the diner next door. The young attendant stood by, cock in hand, wishing he had money for a go as well.

A blue Mustang convertible pulled up to the pumps outside, headed from the East toward the West. The guy behind the wheel was maybe forty, dressed flashy, showing style younger than his slight paunch justified.

*quot;Could you get there, Hon?*quot; Teena asked Ralph. *quot;I think I see my ride to L.A.*quot;