my tits swelled up out.of the open space in my dress gave a good view of plenty of flesh, not just the usual separation of tits like plenty of girls have to be satisfied with. And the way Larry was looking at me, I knew he wasn't missing one little bit of what I had to offer.
On the way to his place we stopped by one of his friend's house to drop off a pair of skis. Larry was loaning them to his friend for the weekend. The thought of Larry flashing down some white, snow-covered hill on a pair of skis was a picture that fitted him very well because he had an athletic build. He was that kind of a guy-he looked like' the kind of fellow you see sailing or horseback riding.
When we were giving his friend the skis Larry insisted that I come in. That kind of pleased me because I got the definite impression that he was showing me off. Larry introduced me briefly and I could see that his friend was looking me over as much as he had. Their interest moved me to display myself a little more. I sat down on the couch and automatically put my hand on the hem of my skirt to adjust it but it was shorter than usual and I wound up just touching my leg at first. I had to look down and consciously tug on it. Larry's friend was able to see quite a ways up my dress, I think, before I finally got myself covered properly.
Larry saw what I was doing and said jokingly, 'Hey, Gwenn, we're among friends. Give him a break, will you? Don't cover yourself up so much.'
I just smiled and looked down into my lap. I knew I looked good to them but I didn't know how to joke like they were doing. Then they went into the kitchen for a moment before we left, and I heard them talking in low voices. Then Larry's friend laughed and slapped Larry 'on the back good-naturedly. I couldn't be sure what they were talking about but I had a pretty good idea it was me.
Back in the car Larry opened the door for me and made no bones about the fact that he was watching my legs as I lifted them into the car. I just smiled to myself and looked straight ahead through the windshield.
When we got to his place he immediately fixed me a drink and turned on his stereo. Then he invited me to just lie back on his couch while he worked in the kitchen, which was right next to his living room. I told him that I didn't drink much and wasn't sure if I'd like to. I drank a little beer in high school, but I had to sneak to do it so I'd never drank much. If my parents had known that I'd ever put alcohol to my lips they would have had a heart attack.
When Larry found out that I was a little queasy about drinking, he was real nice about it. He said, 'Well, worry no more. I've got just the thing for you.'
Then he explained that drinking should be fun, He said that some girls tried to drink bourbon or scotch, couldn't stand the taste, and never tried anything else. He promised to concoct a drink that he guaranteed I'd like. Pretty soon he came in and put a tall glass in my hand that had a lemon sticking on the rim and a cherry floating on top. It was very cold, and had crushed ice.
'Try this,' he beckoned me.
It tasted much better than I'd expected. Sort of a fruity taste. But there was enough strength to it that it was easy to tell it wasn't just soda pop. It was sort of a red color with a darker cast to the bottom of it.
'What is this, Larry?' I asked.
'It's called a 'bora-bora,'' he answered. 'You see, I sort of have two hobbies. One is drinking and cooking, and the other is photography. The drink I made you is one like they serve in Polynesian restaurants. I put simple syrup in it to make it sweet.'
Then he leaned over put his hand on my shoulder. My breast was only inches away and he let his hand slide toward it as he said, 'I thought the least I could do for a sweet girl is make her a sweet drink that she'd enjoy.'
His attention was flattering. He was much more of a sweet-talker than the guys in high school. They had all wanted to either play with you or leave you alone entirely. But Larry seemed genuinely interested in my comfort and this pleased me.
'Oh, thank you,' I said, beginning to relax in his warm and comfortable presence.
As he puttered around in the kitchen I continued to drink. Before long I began to feel the effect of the alcohol. A warm, pleasant feeling began to flow through my body. Larry came over and took my glass even before I was quite through with it.
'Since we're going to have dinner soon,' he said, 'why don't you have another drink now? The food will take away some of the 'high,' you know, if you don't keep ahead
of it.'
I offered my glass. 'Okay,' I answered, 'if you'll make me another drink that tastes just like that, I'd like another one right now before we eat.'
Larry was pleased. He came back in seconds with a new drink of the strange, sweet stuff he called bora-bora. By the time we ate the excellent meat he prepared, I expected to be out from under the influence of the drink. But I was surprised to find that I could still feel its effect. I guess it was because I wasn't used to drinking much, combined with the fact that I could drink more of the bora-bora because of its pleasant taste.
Larry seemed like someone I could talk to, someone who was interested in more than just my body. I was warming up to him by this time quite a bit. I wanted to know more about him, to find out the things he liked and enjoyed doing.
'You said one of your hobbies was photography. Is that photo over there one that you took?' I asked, pointing to a large, framed black and white picture of the Golden Gate Bridge that hung in the center of the wan.
'Yes, it is,' he answered, 'now let me show you some more that I've taken.'
He went into a smaller room and came back with two albums. On the way back he fixed us both another drink.
'This one is of various sites around the city,' he indicated, 'and this one is of different girls. Someday I'd like to make my mark as a fashion photographer.'
I glanced through the first album and began to look through the second one with great interest. His pictures were lovely. AU the girls were very attractive and it appeared that he had photographed them all in a way that pointed up their best features. I began to wonder what pictures of me would look like. I was thinking that maybe I could get some pictures that showed more of my figure than of my face.
Larry anticipated my question. 'How would you like to have some pictures of yourself?'
'Oh, could you?' I asked. I was excited at the prospect of seeing photographs of myself that might be as glossy and attractive as the ones in his albums.
'Why not?' he answered, 'I've got all the equipment right here in the next room.'
On the way into the room he made us both another drink. I. was definitely feeling my drinks by this time, but I didn't care a bit, Diary. I was having a good time and I wanted to forget about my troubles and enjoy myself.
The room where he kept his photographic equipment turned out to be his bedroom. Maybe if I hadn't been drinking I would have wanted to avoid this particular room, but the way I was feeling made everything different.
'I'm glad you're interested in doing this, Gwenn,' Larry said as he set up his equipment. 'I guess you know what an attractive figure you have, don't you? I was going to ask you eventually if you would let me take a few shots of you anyway. It's great that you're interested in doing it.'
I was shy at his flattering me so. I said, 'Oh, gee well thank you for the compliment. I've always been told that I have a pretty nice shape but I've never had a photographer tell me that.'
Larry turned to me and put his hand on my shoulder. 'Believe me Gwen, you have much more than just a 'pretty' figure. You have one hell of a fine shape.'
As he spoke to me he let his hand slide down off my shoulder and onto my back, where it continued to touch me gently all the way down to my buttocks. He was being so gentle in the way that he acted and spoke that I began to think sexy thoughts. I started to wonder if maybe he might be able to arouse me so that I could come.
Then I suddenly realized with shame what I was letting my mind dwell on and I quickly shook off the thoughts and bit my lip in chastisement at such ideas.
'First of all, sit right over there on that chair,' he said, as he stepped away from me and set his camera up on a metal, three-legged thing.
I sat down in the chair and he snapped four or five quick shots of me.
'Now go over and sit on the bed,' he instructed.
I got up from the chair and almost stumbled as I made my way over to the bed. The bora-bora had made me
