dream girl in blue jeans - Sex Stories

dream girl in blue jeans

I have seen her often around the neighborhood. She wore tight-fitting blue jean shorts, with a short sleeve boat-neck blouse. Her blouse is white with blue horizontal stripes. She wore a light cream-colored open-knit sweater loosely hanging off one shoulder. That is how she looked the first time I saw her at the cafe. Who am I? Well, I'm just your average something sidewalk café girl watcher. I love the outdoor cafes that are so plentiful in this neighborhood. The coffee is good, and so is the people-watching. People reveal quite a lot about themselves when they don't now they are being watched. Her shorts fit tight ... damn tight! The hem was folded neatly ... twice, so that the bottom of the folds were right at her sit spot ... you know ... the point where her thighs turns softly into her sweet ass-cheeks. When she bends even slightly, you get just a hint of her little ass. But, that was all fine with me since she has a nearly perfect shape in all respects. As my eyes traveled from her jean shorts upward, I noticed that she was young ... very young. She had long brown hair, and brown eyes. She had the cutest face I had seen in a long time. A friend who knew her a little told me she was nineteen. I had trouble believing that, because she looked much younger. Not that I am drawn to that mind you, but I was prepared to make exceptions in her case. The first time I saw her she was standing tiptoe in her red high-top sneakers, bent slightly over the counter showing her ...

... shapely ass to best advantage, as she accepted her drink from the barista. I uttered one word semi-audibly without thinking, "Damn!" I guess that says it all. I made note of the time of day as she was leaving. She walked by my little café table, I removed my sunglasses, and she smiled at me. I watched as she propelled her perfect little ass on long shapely legs until it was out of sight. I had to know who she was. My friend didn't know too much about her, just that she worked and lived in the neighborhood, and she was in his daughter's graduating class a year ago. I really do have a life, and do not have the time to become a stalker ... but I was curious about her. If I were ever going to get to know her, it would be at this little café. I saw her again on another Saturday, at the café. She was wearing the little jean shorts to which I had become so attracted. I saw her walk in to order. I got up, and standing beside her asked, "May I buy your coffee for you? I have a nice table over here in the shade." A bold move and I had absolutely no idea what her response might be. She looked me up and down, smiled and replied, "Sure! Thank you that would be lovely." Her voice was music, soft and sweet. I paid for her coffee and another one for me, and we sat at the table. Her name is Holly, and she works in a shop about two blocks from here. She is a sweet girl, and from her conversation, seems to be intelligent. I complemented her on her jean shorts, and her pretty blouse. She blushed and ...