"Fine," I said, "It's a wonderful life."
"Yes, we think so too. Where's your friend Mr. Meehan?"
"In the library doing research," I said. I kept my eyes straight ahead,
wishing that this insufferably voluptuous and amoral teenager would do
the same. But she kept looking at me.
We began to pass the volleyball players as they headed up for lunch.
Sandra smiled and greeted everybody by name. Nobody seemed perturbed at
the fact that I was with Sandra, or that she was fully dressed while
no one else was. After the volleyball group came Bonnie Carter and a
youngish man I didn't know. Seeing the two of us together, Bonnie gave
me a look of black hatred.
The Richardses lived in Cabin One, which was at the exact center
of the semi-circle, by the flag-pole. It was slightly larger than
the other cabins, since it belonged to the director and was a kind
of meeting-place as well as a dwelling. We went up on the porch. I
hesitated there. Sandra looked at me, pouting.
"Come on in, silly."
"Maybe I'd better wait out here."
"I won't bite," she told me. "Come on."
Shrugging, I went inside. Sandra led me into the left-hand bedroom. I
leaned against the door, taking care to keep it open that way. Sandra
might have bedtime ideas and I wasn't in a mood to get entangled in
another romance so fast. Especially with jailbait.
But apparently all that was on Sandra's mind right now was a bit of
exhibitionism. She knew full well that mere nudity couldn't get a man
worked up to anything like the degree that disrobing did.
So she disrobed. I leaned back, trying to be casual, as she pulled her
sweater up over her head and tossed it on a chair.
"You don't look like you're thirty-four," she remarked, as she reached
around back to unhook her bra. "You look a lot younger."
"I owe it all to clean living," I said. "How did you know my age,
anyway?"
"I looked at your questionnaire, of course. But don't tell Daddy. He
thinks he keeps them hidden." She had the fastening of her bra open
now. Taking her time about it, she eased the straps over her shoulders
and let the cups fall away from her breasts. The round heavy globes
of flesh thrust forward, maintaining their position without any real
opposition from gravity, which spoke of superb pectoral muscles of the
Joanie Baker class. Sandra turned, aiming those spectacular breasts
straight at me and giving me a full view. The nipples were tiny, but
they were standing up stiffly. Her skin was dark, almost olive, and she
had a kind of Near Eastern duskiness about her. She was the sort of
girl who would be an ornament to someone's harem, I thought.
The sight of a girl fully dressed but with bare breasts is a
stimulating one, especially when you've had the numbing exposure to
total nudity that I had been having for the past forty-eight hours.
Sandra paused devilishly, making silly conversation, and then her hands
went to her waist and she started to unzip her skirt.
I felt a slow, steady crawling of lust across my belly. I clenched my
jaws. _No._ I told myself, _I will not let myself be aroused by this
little slut, I will not, I will not, I will not, I will NOT_!
But I was. It happened slowly, despite my inner objections. Sandra saw
it, and a sly smile appeared on her face as she shimmied the skirt over
her full hips. She was wearing a half-slip underneath, and that came
off too, leaving her clad only in a garter-belt, nylons, and a pair of
filmy panties. The panties hid nothing at all. They might just as well
have been transparent, because I could plainly see her navel, and, when
she turned, the cleft of her full buttocks. She raised one knee and
elegantly unhooked her stocking from the garter-belt. The nylon-encased
leg was lovely. I felt myself turning red all over at this infuriating
strip-tease. I wanted to turn and leave, to get out of here, but I
couldn't. I was held fast by the hypnotic sexual magnetism of this
lushly-constructed teenager.
"Hurry it up," I barked irritably. "I don't want to be late for lunch."
"We've still got plenty of time. Don't you like to watch me undress,
Al?"
I didn't answer. I watched with interest and annoyance as she drew the
stockings off, rolled the panties down over her hips and buttocks, and,
finally, unhooked the garter-belt. She was nude. And I knew that the
photo of her that I had seen was out of date, at least a year old and
maybe more, because her body had come much more to maturity now. Her
heavy breasts promised excitement; her hips and buttocks beckoned.
"Let's go," I said.
"Don't you want to stay a while?"