She was too dressed up to be a hooker, plus who would hook on a rainy Tuesday night at 11:30 on a main street? She looked like she may have come from ... club or was planning on going to one. I passed her wondering if I should see if she would want a ride. I had given rides to strange random women before and 80% of the time I ended up getting a sexual favor from the woman. I wondered to myself if I could get at least a blowjob from this girl if I gave her a ride. I took the next turn and turned. "Her father was supposed to show up at the fair today. She was supposed to drop the price when he came over. Then he'd buy it. I can't believe that you'd pay a hundred dollars for a ten-year-old girl's painting. What the hell is going on here?" It's worth it," I said. "It was the best piece in the show and I know art." Just because you're a fucking art teacher doesn't mean you know anything about art," she snapped.From, behind us a voice I'd never expected to hear again said, "Art teacher?" The. Both of them are bigger, muscular guys and were built to play football, not basketball. The only problem was they thought they were better than what they were and I sure wasn't going to tell them. One would clang up a shot while the other one would shoot an air ball. I will admit, they both could rebound. Everyone had their shirts off and just glistening with sweat from the heat. The game ended and Buster's team lost and he was pissed. He kicked the fence, then picked up his shirt and walked. "I wanted to look cool, you know. Not like a jerk or something. But I suppose I look pretty much like a jerk right now." Her little blond head disappeared behind the seat. And then smiling, she appeared in the aisle beside my empty seat. She sat down in my empty seat! "What’s your name?" she asked sweetly, her words heavy with a country accent."Dan," I answered holding out my hand to her. She took it. "You’re Becky?" She nodded, blushing a bit."I guess you heard my daddy raising hell back.
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