But as I rounded the corner, I heard muffled voices - "blah blah, mumble, quiet, blah blah - want to fuck that girl." Fuck what girl?" I asked, looking at Bryce, our lead mechanic. I knew it wasn't Harp that said anything like that. I don't think I've ever heard that guy swear. I raised my eyebrows and pretended to be VERY offended, stepping over to get in Bryce's face. "Hmm?"Then I turned sharply to give an accusatory leer at Harp, "Who are you guys so hot about?" I waited a few seconds, laughing so hard inside as Harp stared at his shoes. "Harp?" Oh," Harp looked up, blushing. "No. That's not what he said. Bryce was just being funny, you know..." The old, end the sentence with, "you know," like I'm just going to drop it. I looked back to Bryce, attempting to give him a burning, raging look. He was smiling big and silently laughing so hard, I cracked up. "You know one of these days..." I reached down and grabbed a handful of Bryce's bulge, "Letting this thing do all your thinking. The thought seemed to excite her. I let her talk. "Not that I'd mind. I'd love him to see me for what I am." "What are you?" "Well, nothing bad," she said, "I'm just not his little girl anymore." "No," I said, "you certainly are not." Her lips paused on the rim of her glass. She looked at me, sensing a come-on. I hadn't meant it that way. "I didn't mean it like that." I looked down at her, a whole head shorter than me but only two years younger. Her hair, full and shiny and dark as anything, covered her shoulders and spilled onto her chest, resting gently against her breathing breasts. They were well shaped, round, the nipples gently covered by her dress. Her cleavage was tasteful, she clearly wasn't out looking for something tonight. Her back, laid bare by the open fabric of her dress, arched carefully towards her legs. They stemmed out from from beneath the flapping tails of her dress. I couldn't see anything else, but I suddenly felt the tug of a desire to know what was there..
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