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I grew up in Enid, Oklahoma, a town of less than 20,000 people – all poor, except a few, all quiet and reserved, except a few, but only until they'd been drinking, or at a Mt. Salem Baptist Church revival – then it was different story. No one talked much; everyone was pretty much content to mind their own business, nodding and exchanging vague pleasantries to acknowledge one another when they passed on the street.
As time went by, more and more Mexicans moved in. One in particular I remember real well. Teresa worked with me at the Dairy Queen, where I had a job from the summer I turned 16 'til I was 19, when a pole vault scholarship to OSU finally got me out of there. She was small, a little over 5 feet, and she had thick black hair spilling down her back. She wore it swept back when she worked, but the light would still catch on it, making it glint each time she turned her head. Her skin was smooth and cocoa-colored, setting off her dark eyes and long lashes.
When she walked, I had the hardest time keeping my eyes off her small, round ass, which swayed enticingly as she moved. I spent so much time thinking about that ass. I even thought about it sitting in my pick-up sometimes, as my girlfriend, Brandy, sucked my cock. She'd be slurping quietly as I looked off into the distance, the trees along the dirt road where we'd parked becoming shapeless in the dark. I never seemed to be able to get the image out of my mind – the taut, round cheeks barely held in check by tight, butter-soft blue jeans. I would imagine myself gripping her waist from behind and pressing my 8" erection in between them, finding a slick, tight pussy. Inevitability, it would put me over the edge. My balls would tighten and my girlfriend would pull away to keep my cum from getting in her mouth. It's a miracle I never actually said her name said as I shot.
So Teresa made my job bearable. Whenever I had a second, I tried to inconspicuously catch a glimpse to further fuel my fantasies. That ass was matched only by her smooth, small shoulders and pert, C-cup breasts. I relished the time we were the only two working, and I sat with her on the back stoop until her brothers came to pick her up. We would chat and she would smile. The summer nights were clear and heated with dry Oklahoma wind. Emporia was a peaceful little town that closed down after dark, except for Dairy Queen, Sonic, and a couple of bars. There were few streetlights and the lights in all the houses had been turned off; the only light came from a single bulb above us and the security lights at the tire store across the way. We flirted mildly until her brothers pulled up, and she was whisked away in a cloud of dust and abrasively loud
tejano
music.
I knew she was looking at me too, and I liked to flatter myself that she was checking out my long, lithe 6'1" track-runner frame. I have the smooth white skin and ruddy features of an Anglo-Saxon, the tan of someone who's spent years going on long afternoon runs without a shirt, the straight white teeth of a middle-class boy whose parents could afford braces, and the clear blue eyes and dishwater blonde hair of the great-grandson of German immigrant farmers. The muscular shoulders and arms I needed to vault where the result of long hours working out, hundreds of push-ups before bed, starting when I was 13. I worked hard on my body, partly because I wanted a girlfriend; partly because there's nothing better to do in a town like that.
Ever since I got started in pole vault, my body got me the respect of guys and the attention of girls. I would have loved to believe that Teresa thought about it as she lay in her bed at night, those tiny, delicate fingers lightly flickering over her clit, spreading her wetness up and down her pussy till her fingers glided smoothly over the pink folds and found their way into her tight tunnel, those perfect white teeth biting her lip to keep quiet. I hoped her hips started to jog as her fingers fucked her pussy, imagining me on top of her, grinding into her firm little body to the hilt, kissing her, kneading her tits, whispering whatever it was that turned her on, nibbling her ears, encouraging her. I imagined her tight ass flexing and lifting off the bed a little, her body tensing and shuddering with climax as she murmured my name. I would have loved to believe that, but of course I didn't.
It was one of those wonderful nights that it was only the two of us. She was younger than I was, and since I'd worked there longer, I was informally in charge. She was charmingly absent-minded, but when she loaded an entire freezer wrong, I had point it out to her.
"I'm so sorry," she said, her accent caressing each word. "I'll go fix it."
"Terry, everything has to be taken out and put back in," I answered. "You can't do that and watch the front."
We looked at each other in silence.
"I'll work on it," I said. "I can lift this stuff a lot faster than you can. Things are winding down. You can handle the customers yourself."
"I can stay late and do it."
Her dark eyes looked up into mine. Those huge tits were pressing against her shirt and the cold of the back room was giving her the slightest hint of headlights through the fabric. It was getting hard to keep my eyes on her face. I felt a bit of an erection starting to form, despite the cold.
"Really," she said. "It's not fair you do my work for me. I'll call my brother."
My heart leapt (and my cock twitched) at the thought of staying late with her. She wouldn't be allowed to stay late by herself, after all; I had the keys to lock up.
"I'll help you," I said. "We'll get it done twice as fast."
Before I could add anything, she was on the phone, saying something my two years of high school Spanish couldn't decipher. I adjusted my pants the second she turned. She almost caught me when she looked back.
