As she is running, the towel around her neck blows off in the wind. He quickly trots over and picks it up.
-Gee thanks, she says,
-My pleasure, I haven't seen you before and I come here often when I get off.
-No, I just was transferred.My name is Ginger and I'm a cook-baker on the base.
-No kidding! he exclaimed. So am I. I'm working the graveyard shift at the Surface Warfare end of the base. He eyes her discretely as they are talking. She is skinny, for sure, but her nipples are pressing hard through her top. Her boy shorts are spandex and he can see her cameltoes with amazing detail. He feels himself begin to grow.
-I'm always ravenous after my run, Ginger told him, and there's nothing I'd rather do than cook. How about coming by my place for a nice breakfast?
-I'd love it, he says. I'll throw this greaseburger in the car and eat it later. Want to ride with me?
-Love to, Ginger replies.
On the way to Ginger's place, he observes her closely as she is talking and watching traffic. Sweat is beaded all over her tanned body and her top is soaked through. Her small breasts are revealed in every detail through the damp material.
When he enters Ginger's townhouse, he realizes he is in the presence of a master chef. Cookware of the most expensive kind is neatly organized in the open cabinets and hanging conveniently from racks. In the kitchen an herb garden grows next to a very full spice rack. He is impressed.
Let me shower quickly and I'll be right back. Ginger says.
Being something of a voyeur, he looks the place over as she is showering. In her bedroom, he finds a drawer of bras and checks the tags; 34A. The next drawer is full of panties, neatly stacked, with a large percentage of them crotchless. In her closets hangs her clothing, all in size 4. The night stand next to her bed holds four dildos and a large battery powered vibrator, and after rooting through her purse, he finds another, smaller vibrator - a pocket rocket.
Under the bed, a thick portfolio of photos is kept, and as he begins flipping through the pages, he realizes that Ginger is a nude model. He is awed by the frontal photos, that show her neatly shaved bush, adorned by a tiny gold ring through teach side of her clit hood. Attached to each side is a gold and diamond bangle, long enough to tickle her lips as she walks. Hence the crotchless panties; evidently, he thinks, Ginger goes around all day with the bangles keeping her in a state or at least partial arousal.
He hears the water turn off and quickly has a seat on the sofa, where he picks up a Sports Illustrated from a stack, all of which are the swimsuit editions from several previous years.
Ginger walks into the room, having obviously put on the t shirt she is wearing over her wet body. It is small and plastered to her skin, making her small breasts totally visible through the material. The length is exactly long enough to cover her pussy, yet allow the bangles to hang into complete view.
-What do you think about hot cakes, Ginger asks, as I am pretty hot myself. He agreed that they sounded good.
Quickly, Ginger whipped up a large stack of hotcakes, and said - I hope you dont mind, but I am something of a fetishist. If you will, I would like you to lay back on the table and I would like to eat the hotcakes from your tummy.
- Sounds good to me, he answered.
Quickly he dropped his trousers and laid back. She deftly placed a stack of eight hotcakes on his skin, which felt good. After spreading a generous quantity of butter on them, she poured a cup of syrup on the hotcakes, much of which ran off on his abdomen and around either side of his manhood, absorbing in his bush.
- Mmmm. I am so hungry, Ginger said, Seems like everytime I get into a new relationship, I pick up weight.
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