Atleast that’s what I thought. About C cups I’d say. She’s a bit boring to talk to, but really, I’ve become good friends with her by talking to her tits, and at that point, I doubted that she noticed. We’ve been friends since freshman year, because she used to go out with John. And this is where the story begins. It was the middle of summer and my cell starting ringing, which surprised me, because I rarely get calls. It was Samantha. She had an unusual, excited tone. “Tony! I’m back from my vacation!” “So, what’s the big deal?” After a brief silence, she continued, “but I have SO much to tell you! I met this new guy on vacation!” Oh great. Another one of those lame conversations where she expects me to talk about guys with her as if I’m gay. “Sam, you know I’m not gay. Why would you even…” “oh..right… sorry. Hey, you wanna come over my house? Right now? I don’t have to do my environmental science assignment until later” I’ve never visited Samantha’s house before, but that thought. I felt like I was in a fish bowl so my everymove was calculated to appear feminine. As we ate I felt a lot of truckdrivers eyes on me, some I am sure, mentally undressing me. Good thingthey can't see what's under this skirt.When we finished Mike bought a newspaper and said he was going to themen's room. I took that to mean he might be a while so I went out on theporch sat in a rocking chair crossed my legs and lit a cigarette. In notime one of the truckers who had been eying me in the restaurant cameout, he sat down in the chair next to me and lit a cigarette. I lookedhim over he was about 35 years old, dark hair and eyes and pretty buffbut only about 5'9." Then, just like the incident with the leeringtrucker back on the highway, it seemed like someone else took over mymind and body I twirled my hair with my right index finger, and lickedmy lips, took a long drag and exhaled it through my nose. He looked meover and said, "Out to lunch with your Dad?"I was holding the cigarette in my.
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