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“Man, I can see everything she’s got!” Jim stared across his desk at the Granger State Bank. The discreet sign on his desk read “James O. Carroll, Vice President.” From where he was sitting he could see directly up between little Ginnie Reordon’s creamy white thighs. She was a small girl, but built with an almost diabolical precision that insured a second look from any red-blooded male in her vicinity. Jim found it hard to believe the age of girl, she seemed so mature for her years … not only physically but mentally. He had heard that Ginnie cultivated people older than she, completely ignoring most of her classmates at Granger High.
The young girl shifted languidly on the chair across from Jim Carroll’s desk. Her long legs separated just the slightest bit again, and Jim felt tiny beads of sweat break out on his forehead as the tight “vee” of her tight little rose-colored panties came into view. His eyes and mind riveted to the spot, that tender portion of the young girl’s being that she seemed to be offering to him with such nonchalance. He could almost swear that a few reddish tendrils of hair were visible, peeking from the elasticized sides of Ginnie’s panties, but Jim couldn’t tell if it was just his imagination or not. He cleared his throat and lifted his eyes up to the pert, innocent looking face, with its sprinkling of light freckles across Ginnie’s upturned nose. He used his best business tone, and his eyes did their best not to waver in the slightest from the young girl’s frank, almost impertinent, gaze.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.