Chapter 1
"It's no wonder something like this happened to Becky, the way you let her run around in those damned little short skirts that barely cover her ass!" yelled Ted Spencer to his wife, Hazel. "Maybe it'd be different if it was just around the house, but when a girl her age goes out in public showing that much of herself, she's just asking for it."
"Asking for what?" retorted Hazel. She tossed the hair from in front of her eyes with a quick jerk of her head. "Just what do you mean, anyway? Do you realize it's your own daughter you're saying things like that about? And all we really know for sure right now is that she's not home yet. What makes you think it has anything to do with the way she dresses?"
Ted had been pacing the floor as he spoke to Hazel, but now he stopped and glowered at her. It irritated him when his wife pretended to be dumb when he knew damned well she knew what he was talking about.
"You know damned well what I mean, Hazel," he exclaimed. "Some guy's hands in her panties-that's what she's asking for by dressing like she does. I don't care if it's my own daughter or anyone else. And it isn't just that she's not home yet-hell, it's two o'clock in the morning. She's gone, I tell you. Something's happened to her. Some damned pervert saw her somewhere and managed to trick her into letting him get his hands on her."
Hazel sighed and put her hands on her hips. The move made her nightgown tighten across her breasts and the thought flashed through Ted's mind that she was still an awfully good-looking woman at thirty-four. If it wasn't for the state they were in over Becky, he would have been stimulated enough to want Hazel in bed with him and have his hands under the flimsy garment.
"I admit something's awfully wrong about her being out this late," she said. "What I resent is how you're trying to put all the blame on me. The girl's sixteen, Ted. She's too old to wear little girl's clothes. And her skirts aren't one inch higher than the ones her friends wear. Not an inch. All the girls her age wear them that short. It's just the style. If I didn't let her wear her hems that short, she'd be ostracized from the group by all her friends. Besides, Greenfield's too small a town to have perverts. I'm just as worried about her as you are, but I can't believe that-"
"'Ostracized'?" broke in Ted. "Where do you get all them fancy words, anyway? Been reading them women's magazine's again? All I know is that a girl shouldn't show that much of herself in public. I don't give a damn what the other girls are wearing-"
"Oh, no?" interrupted Hazel. Her eyes were flashing and she was on a new track. "Well, if you want to know the truth, I think you care quite a bit what the 'other girls are wearing.' You can't keep your eyes off them when you see them walking down the street. Don't try to claim different, either. I've seen you gawk at them too many times. Just because I don't yell at you about it doesn't mean I don't know what you're thinking. You don't fool me for one minute. You'd like to see farther up, you'd like to see one stoop over so you could see all the way up to her panties, wouldn't you? And what you'd really like is if you could-"
The telephone rang and her tirade was halted. She snatched it off the wall and said, "Yes, yes? Is it you, Becky?"
But it was only the local police chief reporting that he still had no word about the girl. He told Hazel that if it would ease her mind any, at least there had been no accidents or funny business in the area all night. He suggested Becky might have stayed all night with a girl friend from high school and asked if Hazel was sure she'd talked to the mothers' of all her friends. But she assured the officer that she had and he said he'd keep up the search.
The call calmed them down a little and removed some of the will to argue, but it also made them more worried. Where in the world could she be? It was time to consider what neither of them wanted to-that Becky had run away. It was true they'd been having a lot of arguments with the girl lately but surely, they hoped, she hadn't gone to the extreme of picking up and leaving them.
Ted had an idea. Something made him think that Betty, one of Becky's classmates, knew a little more than she was telling. Next morning he'd have to call her. Or better still, go over and see her. Betty was only sixteen, it was true, the same age as Becky. But there was certainly something about the girl that made Ted think of her as being older. Something about the way she moved her legs inside the miniskirt she invariably wore, and about the way she used her eyes. As Ted lay in bed, his thoughts drifted from his absent daughter to Betty. So young, and yet so... Had she ever let a boy do things to her, he wondered. Had she ever allowed someone's hands to slip inside her blouse, or to undo the buttons on the waistband of her skirt and...
This is crazy, Ted thought, I've got to get that kid out of my mind. But another part of him was reacting, Too. He felt the slow swelling inside his shorts and soon knew a strong desire to do something about it. He rolled over and threw an arm over his wife's body. She didn't have to know why he was suddenly so amorous, did she? Hazel was a fine-looking woman, sure, but a man gets a little tired of the same thing all the time. He ran his hands over the silkiness of her nightgown and she didn't budge. He slipped his fingers underneath the lace top and touched the bare skin of her smooth upper breast. Jesus, he thought, what if I had that little Betty in bed with me and was getting this kind of feel of her?
"Ted," Hazel suddenly complained, breaking the spell and ending his dream, "how can you want to make love at a time like this? I'm worried sick over Becky, aren't you? Let's go to sleep. I don't feel like it tonight."
He mumbled something and rolled away from her. But it took Ted much longer to get to sleep than it took his wife. He was worried about the disappearance of Becky all right, but there was more on his mind, too. Thinking about his daughter's friend Betty had made him too aroused to fall asleep easily-especially when he wasn't able to get relief by having sex with his wife. Before he finally managed to lose himself in the welcome respite of sleep, he even found himself thinking of a secretary at his office the same way he'd been thinking about Betty.
The next day he went to the office as usual, even though they had no word about Becky. But at noon he came home for lunch, something he didn't ever do. He told Hazel right away that he thought Betty knew more than she would tell and that he wanted to go over to her house and question her more thoroughly just as soon as she got home from school. But Hazel suddenly burst into tears.
"It's no use, Ted," she blurted out, "I had the same idea and I've already talked to her. I finally wormed it out of her. Becky... Becky's run off-she's run off with a couple of hippies!"
"What!" he exploded. "With a couple of hippies? Hell, there aren't any hippies around Greenfield!"
"Betty says it was a pair that were driving through town. She saw Becky talking to them near the malt shop on Main Street," Hazel explained to Ted, who was getting very red in the face.
"She did, huh? Why those... those dirty young fuckers-those little bastards! I bet they made Becky go with them. I bet they forced her to! When I get my hands on them I'll-"
"Wait, what are you doing?" she interrupted him as he reached for the phone. He told her he was going to call the sheriffs office and the state patrol, so they could catch the boys' car. She reacted violently, grabbing his arm before he could dial the number. They couldn't have anybody know, she claimed. They'd be terribly embarrassed if anyone in town found out their daughter was with two hippies. It would be bad enough if she had been kidnapped. But what if, just what if it turned out Becky had gone with them of her own accord? Then they wouldn't be able to stand the shame of it all. And she had been acting awfully sassy lately. It was just possible she might have done such a thing.
"You're right, Hazel," he said. "There's only one way to handle this. I'll have to go after them myself. I've got a month's vacation coming, remember? I didn't take any last year because of the work load. I'll use however much I need of it to go after them. Pack my suitcase, will you? I'm going to get my shotgun out and clean it."
Then he called his boss and made the arrangements, without telling him the real reason he wanted the time off. Hazel wanted to go with him but he told her it would be too dangerous and that he didn't want her to see what happened once he caught up with the two boys. He was out the door and driving out of town within the hour.
Many miles farther west, on the same highway, a ramshackle VW camper rattled along with three young occupants. From the rear, the casual observer would have noted three girls in the front seat. A bright, cornsilk-headed blonde flanked by a curly redhead, and a somewhat bushy brunette driver. But only the blonde was female-as a front view would have proved beyond any question. It was the Spencers' teenage daughter, Becky. The other two occupants were young men with long hair.
"I still can't get over how groovy it was meeting you dudes," she exclaimed, lying back against the seat and throwing her hands in the air at the marvel of it all. "It must have been fate, don't you think? I mean the vibes must have been just right for it to happen,"
She still didn't know them too well and hoped her use of "hip" language and ideas was sufficiently impressive to them. In the little town of Greenfield, Becky had secretly considered herself a "hippie," but now she was in the company of real ones and wanted desperately to be accepted as one of them.
"Right on, love," agreed Bo, the dark-haired driver. He was usually noncommittal, leaving the bulk of the conversation up to his red-headed friend.
"Sure it was fate, man," chimed in Red Dog. The pair had long since abandoned the use of their real names in favor of more colorful ones, and Becky had been duly impressed when she learned them.
"It's all the stars," he continued sagely. "You know, everything's all connected with the universal vibrations of the planets and the galaxies. You was meant to be waiting there for us and we were meant to happen by when we did. Dig?"
"That's exactly the way I've always thought about things," gushed Becky, "but none of my friends could understand me. It's... it's just wonderful being with two humans who think the same way I do."
"Right on," commented Bo.
In truth, Becky had no idea what Red Dog was talking about and had never had a similar thought in her life. But it sounded good to her and she was sure it was true. There would be a lot for her to learn, she was quite sure. And there were certain other areas of the "hippie philosophy" which she was even more interested in, she smiled to herself. Red Dog's next comment concerned that very topic, even though it was indirect.
"When Bo and I saw you standing with those other chicks in front of the drug store, we knew right away you were hip. You were the only one we could see that wasn't wearing a bra. Even the way you were standing was groovy-loose and limber, not all stiff and trying to be sexy like the others," he told her.
She blushed a little before she answered. She was delighted they had noticed the way her braless young mammaries stuck out on her chest under the thin white peasant blouse she wore.
"Really, you could tell just by looking?" she asked, beaming. "A couple of the other girls with me weren't wearing bras either. I guess you just didn't notice them."
"Then they must have not had the same stuff you got," offered Red Dog.
She knew very well what he meant by the word "stuff," and she wanted them to know she wasn't afraid to talk about such things.
"Well, Christ," she responded, full of bravado, "I mean a girl's tits are part of her body, aren't they? If she's afraid to have somebody see a natural part of herself, she's pretty dumb."
Both boys looked aside. "You're outasight, you know it," said Red Dog, smiling.
"Yeah," agreed Bo, his head nodding as he looked down the highway ahead of them.
"Oh, listen, it really makes me happy for you guys to say that," Becky beamed. "I really feel great being with you. I feel like I can really talk to you, know what I mean? Like I don't have to play word games like I always did with the kids back in Greenfield."
"That's just the way it is, love," volunteered Red Dog. "You can be straight with me and Bo about anything on your mind. Anything at all. We're all brothers and sisters under the skin. I can tell you already know that, though, don't you? You weren't a damn bit afraid to say the word 'tits' in front of us, and that's just the way it should be. Maybe that sounds like something pretty unimportant, but it does show us where your head's at. You're too groovy a chick to hang around a place like Greenfield."
"Right on," Bo concurred, his eyes staring dumbly down the highway ahead of the rattling vehicle.
"Well," Becky began, "there is something I have to tell you guys. It's the kind of thing a girl-a chick usually couldn't even begin to discuss with a dude. Much less with two at once. But you two are so wonderful to be with that I feel I can just say anything to you. Anything at all. Sort of like you were chicks, and I didn't have to keep secrets from you, you know?"
"Go ahead, love, rap to us about it, then," urged Red Dog. "You don't have to hold back."
"It's about how you let me sleep in the back of the van all night without coming on to me," Becky said slowly. "I mean, most dudes would have been back there on top of me in no time flat. You know, I was lying down and all. And I guess it must have occurred to you that either one of you could have got back there with me while the other one drove. It would have been pretty easy for you to get into my pants and ball me, whether I wanted to or not. Uh... I mean, even though I didn't want you to."
Red Dog looked at her and didn't take his eyes from hers all the time he spoke. "Well, it wasn't because we didn't think about it. I mean, face it, girl, you're a great-looking chick. Bo and I both were thinking about you back there, and wondering if you looked as good under your clothes as we imagined you would. You were showing quite a bit of leg, you know, the way you were lying. But you were so tired after riding as far as you did that you were out like a light as soon as you lay down. We wouldn't want to ball a chick that tired and sleepy-we'd only want to get in a chick's pants if she wanted it as bad as we did. Right, Bo?"
"Right on," said Bo. "It's no fun to screw a chick unless she's as hot for it as you are."
Becky was looking into Red Dog's eyes with an almost hypnotic fascination as he spoke. She jerked forward and kissed him hard on the cheek, then tore herself away and did the same to Bo. Red Dog got a nice firm feel of her resilient breasts, even though it only lasted for a few seconds and was limited to his chest.
"You are really just too much, you know it?" she gushed. "You really are. I knew you must have been thinking about it some. I think it's super that you didn't try to take advantage of me."
"Never happen," said Red Dog. "Only time either one of us would come onto you is if the mood was just right, and you let it be known that you'd dig it. Of course, you wouldn't have to actually say anything. A chick can tell you she wants you in her pants in a lot of different ways."
"Well sure," said Becky, attempting to be more worldly than her previous sex experience made possible. "If... if a chick does want to, there are plenty of ways to let a guy know without talking about it."
"But sometimes it's fun to talk about though, don't you think?" said Bo, to her surprise. She had gotten so accustomed to his monosyllabic grunts that she almost forgot he could present an original thought or say anything on his own.
"Oh sure," Becky quickly agreed, hedging her bet. "I mean, there have been times when I came right out and told a dude certain things I wanted him to do to me."
Again she was lying, but her desire for peer acceptance forced her to do it. The girl, in point of fact, was still a virgin. And although she had had her share of being felt up in movies and pressed hard against the back seat of a few automobiles, no boy had yet taken her maidenhead nor even come reasonably close. With a vague notion of certain things which might happen later between her and the boys, she suddenly decided she'd better cover herself against the time when they just might discover her virginity. And she'd better do it now.
"Of course, the guys in Greenfield aren't too sharp," she giggled, continuing her pose. "Not a one of them even knows how to handle themselves with a chick. None of them... none of them really ever turned me on enough to really get me going."
She turned to Red Dog and provocatively added, "If you know what I mean by that."
For an answer, Red Dog only smiled, which seemed more exciting to her than any words would have. Becky couldn't help wondering if talking about such things was getting the boys aroused. It nearly always took more than just talk to excite her, but she knew boys were quite different in that way. She thought both Bo and Red Dog must be getting a little warm inside their pants from hearing her talk so boldly. And there was something very daring to her about keeping it up. She got a delicious little feeling in the pit of her stomach, it seemed, just from the knowledge of how the two boys were probably being affected.
"Like I was saying, though, about sleeping on the floor of the van," she said. "I sure was sleepy, all right. And since it was so dark back there, I didn't even pay any attention to how I was lying. I mean how my clothes were. But this morning when I woke up and it was daylight, I noticed how messed up my skirt and things were. I mean, my legs were spread plenty wide enough for you to see quite a bit if you'd wanted to. And the way my skirt was riding so far up them, it wasn't covering very much at all. If you want to know the truth, I got red in the face and blushed like heck when I discovered what you could have seen."
"Well, love," Red Dog said, "you're being so straight about it, I'll have to do the same. I did look back there, as a matter of fact. And I saw enough to raise a hard, too."
Becky grinned nervously and couldn't keep from blushing again. She hoped they wouldn't notice the effect the mention of Red Dog's organ had on her. She managed a sort of broken titter that passed for laughter.
"Yeah," chimed in Bo, "and he told me to take a look, I damned near drove off the road!"
Red Dog laughed. "He sure did," he continued, becoming more personal about what he had seen. "Maybe it wasn't as bad as you think, though. We couldn't see everything you had. Not quite. For one thing your skirt did cover a little, and for another, you were moving around some in your sleep. I guess you weren't very comfortable back there, with the van bouncing around. But we saw so far up your skirt we sure did want to see more, I'll tell you that. Once I got a nice good look at the trim on your lollypops, but then you happen to turn over the other way and I couldn't see that high any longer."
"Oh, is that what I'm wearing?" Becky responded, with embarrassed displeasure in her voice. "I guess I do still have a pair those things left over. I would have to be wearing them when I meet you guys!" She was well aware that lollypop style panties, with all their sweet little flowers, were worn mainly by much younger girls. She didn't want to be associated with children in any way. Certainly not in the underwear she wore. She wished she had her black silk panties on, the ones with the lace on the legbands, but it was too late now.
"Did it... did it really turn you on that much?" she asked, changing the subject. "You really get hard from seeing me like that?" she said, gulping the words out as nonchalantly as she could. It was the first time in her life she'd ever talked with a boy about the state of his organ.
"Damned right he got hard," Bo laughed. "I thought once he was going to bring it out of his pants and jack off!"
Red Dog didn't deny it. He just said, "At least I didn't nearly put us in the ditch."
Bo grinned. "Okay, okay," he admitted. "But I bet it's just because you weren't the one driving. Speaking of driving, how about taking over for a while? I been herding this thing between the ditches since way before daybreak this morning."
He pulled off onto the shoulder of the road and got out.
"You can walk around if you want to," called out Red Dog, "but I'm just going to squeeze through here past Becky like this and... ungh, close fit... feel something real nice as I go!"
He playfully brushed his hand across her tightly clothed breasts and she giggled. It was just banter on one level, she knew, and she went along with it-but it was still true that the contact had been made, and his desire to touch her was flattering to her. Just then Bo hopped in on the other side.
"Don't leave me out," he joked, and threw his arms around her playfully. He squeezed her close for just a second, then let her go. But the pressure of his firm upper body against her soft breasts lasted long enough to give her a definite thrill. She smiled and batted at him halfheartedly as he settled into his side of the seat.
"Watch out," she reminded him, "you almost drove off the road, remember? You better-"
"Yeah," he interrupted, "but that was from looking at you, not giving you a little love squeeze."
"Easy, gang," said Red Dog, one hand on the wheel and the other shifting gears as they pulled onto the highway. "No heavy stuff until we stop for the night somewhere."
Becky knew he was joking about Bo's brief hug being "heavy," but the implication that something heavier might be expected that night sent a thrill up her back. It was great of them to let her go with them, but her interest in them was quickly becoming much more than friendly. She had to admit to herself that she was... well, she was downright physically attracted to the two of them very much. How would it be, she wondered? How would it be if tonight, when things were quiet and groovy in some motel room, she allowed one of them to put his hands under her clothes? And how would it be if she let him do more? If she let him touch her all he wanted to and do things to her like she and her closest girl friends had spoken of one day letting a boy do? The thought sent a warm shudder through her body. But how could anything happen with both of them present? Wouldn't she have to make a choice? And wouldn't that make the other one angry with her? But the idea of having one of them do things to her eager, virginal young body was so exciting to her that she didn't trouble herself long with thoughts of preference she might develop for one over the other.
Becky sat between them and thought how they must feel being with her. The skirt she wore, now a bit rumpled, allowed a bolder view of her slim, long legs than most of the boys at school had ever got, that was for sure. And she was justifiably proud of the twin mounds which jutted out from her chest under the tight-fitting peasant blouse she wore. The low neckline was the kind usually found on loose-fitting blouses, with a drawstring-style top, but Becky always wore them a size smaller-against her parents's wishes-so a much tighter fit resulted. The way the neckline afforded an ample view of a wide expanse of her smooth, soft skin assured her that no boy could look her way without seeing how well she was built.
She relaxed as Red Dog drove and felt the warm, strong pressure of Bo's leg against hers. From time to time, Red Dog affectionately patted her leg. How different it was to be with those two boys after being used to the boys at school! The boys she was accustomed to dating were always grabbing at her and making pests of themselves. But Bo and Red Dog were easygoing and seldom asserted themselves. She felt warm and cared for as she sat between them. The touch of Bo's leg against hers and the occasional pattings from Red Dog were not at all threatening. On the contrary, they made her feel secure and confident.
In fact, she thought, it would be groovy if there was more contact from one or the other of them. Faced with their self-assured ease, Becky began to be aware of a vague desire to feel their arms about her shoulders or their hands... well somewhere. Then thoughts of how it would be that night with them permeated her brain... aimless, meandering thoughts of her clothes coming off in the darkness of some strange room, and firm male hands exploring the soft curves beneath her underwear...
"Huh?" she said, startled from her daydreams by the realization that she was being spoken to. "What did you say? Guess I was thinking about something so hard I was lost for a minute."
"I asked you if you were sure it's cool with your folks," repeated Red Dog. "They wouldn't get the cops after you or nothing, would they? Nobody knows you split with us, do they?"
"How could they?" she answered. "Remember? We split town so fast I didn't even take time to go past home and try to sneak out more clothes. All I've got are what's on my back. You don't have to worry about my folks. They can't possibly know where I am-and it serves them right, too. Now maybe they'll know how mean they've been to me and be sorry."
"How about those other chicks you were with, though? We was rapping with you for almost a half hour at that drug store, so one of them might fink on you if-"
"No, they're all cool," replied Becky, uncertainty creeping into her voice. "Only two or three were still around when we left together. There is one chick, Betty, who has a way of getting kind of jealous sometimes when guys don't show her any interest. In a way she's my best friend. I'm sure she wouldn't tell on me."
Bo was more taciturn. "Cool it, will you?" he said. "We got it made. In a few hours we'll have put a whole day between us and that twirp town. Why don't you two relax and enjoy yourselves, okay?"
Red Dog and Becky both smiled. He was right, they thought. The conversation quickly reverted to an old subject.
"Now that's a damned good idea," said Red Dog. "Let's do enjoy ourselves. We been driving like hell for a long time. Let's turn off on the next dirt road we come to and stop for a while."
After a mile or so he wheeled the van off the highway and drove down a narrow country road.
"Oh, groovy," exclaimed Becky, "there's a little creek. We can pull over under that big tree. See?"
"Hey, look," Red Dog cried. "It's deep enough to swim in!"
"Great," yelled Bo. "I can take a bath. The hell with the swimming, I just want to get some of this road dust off my bod."
"Are you kidding?" Chided Red Dog. "Everybody knows hippies don't take baths."
They all laughed.
Becky felt a surge of excitement. She was pretty sure the boys wouldn't bother about donning a swimsuit. Would they expect her to strip too? In spite of all her bravado, the pretty teen-ager had never once been naked in front of a male. She knew in the back of her mind that showing off her naked body wasn't much compared to what they would take before the trip was over, but she was still more than a little nervous about it.
"Just think, when we get to the Pacific, we can all swim in the ocean," she suggested. "And can we really visit all those communes and camps on the way, and meet all those beautiful people?"
"You better believe it," assured Red Dog.
"And when we get to the coast, we can all break up and go our separate ways," she said, "like you were telling me?"
"Sure," said Red Dog. "Unless we should want to stick together. Freedom's the name of the game, love. You can do what you want to, dig?"
Becky's eyes were shining. "You two are really beautiful, you know it," she said, becoming a bit maudlin again.
Bo hopped out first and shucked off his clothes at once. Becky saw his organs hanging down in front plain as day. She was fascinated by his newly exposed male-ness but she tried not to show it. Then she looked around to see that Red Dog was in the process of doing the same. As he drew his pants down, she saw a thick penis come into view from between his legs. He made no move to keep her from seeing that it wasn't quite soft. And she could hardly believe the rich growth of red hair that framed it. She'd seen a few red-headed girls naked before, but not many had pubic hair as red as the hair on their head. Red Dog's was every bit as red as the hair on his head.
Becky quickly became the only one with clothes on, a condition of which she was acutely aware.
Red Dog smiled at her as he got out of the van and headed for the creek. "Don't worry, love. Bo and I won't look while you undress if you don't want us to. You might get a little shook to have us both staring at your tits and cunt, huh?"
Now a new fear enveloped her. Her hesitation at getting naked had been noticed-she couldn't have them think she was scared to show herself! And Red Dog's words, although nice on the surface, sounded damningly condescending to her ears. She couldn't allow him to be patronizing toward her. She had to show she was every bit as uninhibited as they were.
She forced herself to speak slowly, trying not to reveal her nervous excitement.
"Oh, I don't know," she drawled. "I don't see why I'd be the one to get shook. I know what my... my tits and all look like. But you might get a little shook looking at them."
She sat in the front seat as she spoke and she knew that Red Dog could now see well up underneath her dress. She made no attempt to keep him from seeing. And his thick organ was growing right before her eyes. His face lit up with a knowing smile.
"Bo won't mind if we don't join him for a while," he said to her. "Go ahead and blow my mind, love. Let me see what you look like under there."
She didn't speak. She just put a hand to her skirt and started unbuttoning the waistband. She tried to assume a sexy, sophisticated look on her face as she did so. She was unaware that her very youth and innocence made her automatically possess an air of raw sexuality that could never be achieved by a mere facial expression-even to a boy only two or three years older than she was.
His penis was now hard and the head of it was red and hot-looking. The knowledge that she had caused it to get that way gave her a feeling of power, a heady sensation that made her become more confident. As she reached the last button and began wiggling the skirt down, the bright colors of her lollypop panties came into view. Maybe the juvenile underwear made her seem younger than she wanted to, but she'd leave no doubt about how much of a woman she was.
"Oh, you can look okay," she said to Red Dog in a low voice. "But I bet if you see everything I got, you'll want to do more than just look." As she spoke, she pulled the skirt off over her feet and laid it with careful casualness on the dash. Her peasant blouse was still on, but he could now see her long, lovely legs in all their naked beauty. And only the thin material of her flowery panties kept him from seeing the plush, sensual mound of her genitals.
"Oh, you're so right," he said, his eyes magnetized by her half-naked crotch. "Just lay down on the seat and I'll show you!"