Free Summer Girl by Casey Grant Page B

her car.
Brie continued walking.
    She knocked on the door and waited, her heart
racing. This was naughty. But she was taking pity on a man in what
had to be an awful marriage. This here was an act of charity. Mr.
Fugleson answered the door. “Brie?”
    “Hello, Mr. Fugleson! Brad—Mr. Merle—would
like to borrow your nail-gun again.”
    Tony looked at Brie, his head moving up and
down assessing this young object of desire standing on front step,
her feet together, standing at attention, the mile long legs on
display. “Come on in!” Mary is doing some shopping. She'll be back
in a while.”
    Brie stepped into the kitchen, her heels
clicking on the tiled floor.
    “You look very lovely today. Are you going to
a party?”
    “Yes, a birthday party.”
    “Oh. A birthday party at midday? On a
weekday?”
    “Yes.”
    “You're not going by yourself are you?” Mr.
Fugleson said.
    “No.”
    “Because you can't go out in public looking
like this. Not all by yourself. You’ll need to be with a group of
friends.”
    “Why is that Mr. Fugleson?” said Brie.
    “Because you look so amazing that men might
not remember their manners.”
    “But you’re remembering yours, right Mr.
Fugleson?”
    “Oh, yes. I sure am. I remember you from when
you were a little girl—and you've been mowing my lawn as well for
all these years. And, boy, I am really sorry you had to quit your
mowing service but I understand. When you're taking care of a child
you have no time to be mowing lawns.”
    “That's true.” said Brie.
    “Say, um, can I—can I get a photo? I wanted
one to show to my wife when she comes home. Show her how lovely you
look in your dress.”
    “For your wife?” said Brie smiling.
    “Oh yes. She would love to see you all
dressed up for an afternoon on the town.”
    “Mr. Fugleson...” said Brie. “I know what you
want the pictures for.” Brie could see him swallow.
    “What, why— is that?”
    “You know,” said Brie.
    “Well, no, I don't, really.”
    “That's okay. I really don't mind. I know its
what guys do with pictures of pretty girls. But why wait till
later? Why not just do it now?”
    “What?”
    “Do it while I’m here.”
    “Do what?”
    “Come,” said Brie. This was the first time
she had used that word in front of an adult.
    “Okay.... okay. Are you sure it’s okay?” said
Tony.
    “Why wouldn’t it be?”
    “Your employer made it clear that—”
    “That was about spying. I’m right here in
your house.”
    “Where do you want to do it?”
    “In your office. Where you used to pay
me.”
    “Oh, man...”
    “You sit at your desk and I'll just walk
around the room looking at the books on your bookcase and you just
go ahead.”
    “Jesus.”
    “Your wife won't be home for awhile,
right?”
    “No.”
    “Let's go, said Brie walking past Tony and
into the study, heels clicking.
    Tony walked into the study and took his seat
at the desk. Brie feinted distraction by appearing to show great
interest in some book. “Jane Eyre. I love this book,” she said
holding it up.
    “Yes, very good...” said Mr. Fugleson.
    Brie turned around and made her way down the
large built-in shelf, her beautiful ass turning little circles as
she walked. She could see Mr. Fugleson fumbling with his pants. She
pulled out books that she didn't care about and paged through them,
conscious of how she looked to Tony from this angle. She thought of
how her arched back looked, the way her ass protruded like a shelf,
the way her buttocks looked like round balls perched on top of the
longest legs ever seen.
    Brie put the book back in its place and
pulled out another, shifting her weight slightly. She dropped the
book. “Oops,” she said, bending over at her waist to pick it up,
her backside turned towards Mr. Fugleson. She heard a slight moan.
She knew that the short dress was riding high, giving him a glance
at her lower ass cheeks. She turned towards him, “I'm sorry, Mr.
Fugleson, that wasn't very lady-like of