Baby Girl and Naughty Boy Ch. 01

We talked while we waited for her plane to board, and during the conversation I happened to notice that her shirt was billowing open at the top, treating me to an unobstructed view down the front of Patty's shirt. While I wouldn't normally be interested in such a cheap peek, it was almost impossible not to look -- and I could see absolutely everything since the girl wasn't wearing a bra.

From where I sat, and without any effort what so ever, I could look right down into Patty's shirt to see her tiny breasts on display. Even though I tried to be nonchalant about looking, I'm almost positive she had to know -- and she didn't seem to care.

The way her shirt buttoned, along with the way she sat, gave me a completely private view of her tiny boobies, which weren't even enough to fill a heavily padded A-cup. In fact, those perfect little breasts looked to be no larger than golf balls and much of what she had was just her cute puffy nipples straining up from her chest. The view I had was so good, I could almost count the little bumps on her areolas and I could see the pristine smoothness of her delicate, pink nipple caps. I can only remember getting a chance like this once or twice before in my life, and each of them left me with enough fantasy material to fuel many jerk off sessions, so after covering my hardening cock with my magazine, I feasted my eyes on her bare breasts while we talked.

To be honest, there are only two things which are 100% guaranteed to get me to notice a woman. The first being smallness in the tit department, and I don't mean that in a derogatory way. What I mean is, when I think about the perfect woman -- I mean my perfect woman, I visualize a woman with very petite breasts. That old adage, "Anything more than a mouthful is wasted" is my mantra. When ever I see a woman that might hold prospective romantic interest, the first thing I try to figure out is her cup size. If it's more than an 'A', I lose interest quickly.

The second thing that always catches my eye is VPL, or Visible Panty Lines. While I guess most women are now wearing thong underwear to reduce panty lines under today's synthetic fashions, hopefully, there are some smart ones that realize what an eye catcher panty lines are. I can't understand why women wear fashions to highlight their bounding breasts, but don't give the same effort to highlight their butts. What's the use of seeing a woman's butt if you can't visualize her panties? It just doesn't make sense to me.

In Patty's case, her cute, clear and uncomplicated complexion, along with her petite stature were a visual bonus, and the fact that she seemed to be an intelligent and articulate girl made her attractive as hell to me.

So, I spent a good thirty minutes looking down the top of her blouse directly at her unharnessed boobs. Unless I'm seriously mistaken, when she saw me checking her out, she actually shifted in her seat to give me an even better view. While we conversed, I rarely raised my eyes to look at her face, and she didn't show the slightest bit of concern that she was exposing her breasts to me. Man, I was in heaven! And, she was an angel.

When the gate agent called for first class boarding, she asked how she could thank me for my generosity of giving up my seat. I almost told her I would appreciate a picture of her tiny breasts as a keepsake, but being the gentleman I am, I told her it wasn't necessary and added that I'd thoroughly enjoyed her company. Blushing, she lowered her eyes to the floor and then gingerly peeked up at me and said, "Uhm... I did, too. I wish we could talk longer, but I have to go."

Before she walked away, Patty insisted that I give her my name, address and phone number so she could thank me properly once she got home. Hopeful I might get another chance to see her micro-breasts again, I jotted it all down on one of my business cards and handed it to her. As she stood, she shook my hand firmly and thanked me again. Right before she disappeared through the boarding door, she turned and stood on her tiptoes to wave at me and then she was gone.

Now, my luck with women isn't what I would call spectacular. In fact, it's horrible. I've been through several relationships with women that were snooty, moody and shallow. Since I'm about to turn 30 and already own my own thriving business, I'm doing pretty well for myself and I'm financially comfortable. I try to keep that fact under wraps when I first meet a prospective woman, but more often than not, once the lady finds out my financial situation, they seem to become interested in marriage pretty quickly. Now, I'm not trying to make all women out to be gold-diggers, but I've run across more than my share. I may be the last man on earth who actually wants to fall in love before I get married, so, until that happens, I'm just going to keep looking.

Yes, I get as much sex as I want. It's not hard to get laid, but, it's not the kind of sex I'm looking for, and, it's not the kind of sex I want. Perhaps I should state it like this: It's not the kind of sex I really need.

See, I've got some fetishes and interests which most women seem to regard as 'Kinky' and I'm very reluctant to disclose them because I've had more than one girlfriend accuse me of being a pervert or a sicko. But, the way Patty sat there and let me ogle her tiny nubbins, it sure made me think about all the fun I could have with her and her beautiful A cups.

My flight finally boarded and as I sat on the darkened plane for the trip home, I closed my eyes and brought back the vision of Patty's little buds. My cock responded almost immediately, pushing against my suit pants in an urgent fashion. "What an amazing experience" I said to myself as I remembered the way she exposed herself to me.

When the plane landed, I made my way through the terminal and was surprised to see a very well dressed man standing there holding a sign with my name on it. Now, sometimes I arranged for a limo when I traveled, but this was my home airport and my car was in the parking garage. So, what was up with this?

Probably just a similar name, I thought -- but I approached the man anyway and told him who I was. "Paul J. Davis from ILP Corporation?" He asked questioningly.

"Yes." I replied. "Are you here to pick me up or something?"

"No, Sir" He answered. "I have a delivery for you. I was asked to hand it to you, personally." Immediately, the training from my over bearing attorney kicked in and I took a step back so he couldn't hand me a summons, subpoena or serve me with court papers. Not that I've done anything wrong, but the whole country is "Litigation Happy" and I've been trained not to take things from people without knowing what they are.

The man simply smiled and told me I had nothing to be concerned about and held out an envelope with my name hand printed on it. Cautiously, I took the mysterious envelope from the man, and while he waited, I opened it up and read it. To say I was surprised would be a gross misstatement. The envelope contained a very courteous and thoughtful hand written 'Thank You' note from Patty's father, thanking me for helping his daughter get home and inviting me to have lunch with him tomorrow so he could show his gratitude. The note contained the address and time of the engagement as well as an offer to have me picked up.

"Shall I convey your acceptance to Mr. Wallingford?" The man inquired.

"I appreciate the offer, but, tell him this isn't necessary," I replied, smiling to the man. "I was happy to help her out given the situation."

At that point, the man handed me a business card and told me Mr. Wallingford insisted I accept his offer. Looking at the card, my eyes bugged out as I read the name. "P. J. Wallingford".

"P.J. Wallingford?" I asked curiously. "The real P.J. Wallingford?"

"None other." The man replied quietly.

Taken aback that fate had thrown me into a lunch invitation with the famous P.J. Wallingford, I shook the surprise out of my head and readily agreed, telling the man I would be honored to accept the invitation.

"Very good, Sir." The man answered. "And by the way, Sir, you needn't worry about Miss Patricia's Grandfather. Seems it was just a bout of indigestion, and he's perfectly fine." Then, after giving him the address where he could pick me up tomorrow, he expressed his thanks and left.

All night I struggled with the whole idea of meeting P.J. Wallingford and the unbelievable memories of how I shamelessly peeked at his daughter's breasts. I can't tell you the thoughts that flew through my mind, even wondering if I was going to be chastised by the powerful man for my voyeuristic behavior.

But, the lunch went fine and he was quite cordial, even offering to pay me back for the first class seat I'd given to his daughter. Smiling, I told him not to worry about it; that the cost of the seat wasn't a consideration in my mind. We ended up spending most of the afternoon talking business and I found him quite intriguing. He expressed an interest in my business and even offered a few tips to help me prop up cash flow. It turned out we had something in common -- that being a passion for golf. And golf is what enabled me to start dating his only daughter, Patricia, or as he referred to her, his "Baby Girl".

He invited me out to his club the next Saturday morning to play a round of golf. I was enormously excited about playing with this business icon, but that excitement paled in comparison to the way my heart jumped when I arrived and found Patty there and learned that she was joining us, too.

While PJ went into the pro shop to check us in, Patty and I waited outside. As I sat on the bench to put on my golf shoes, Patty squatted down next to her bag and started feeling through the pockets obviously looking for something. The way she was positioned was a dream come true for me because her legs were parted a few inches and I was treated to a nice peak up her skirt. Well, it was actually more than a 'peek' because I could see it all; a complete, straight ahead panty shot. Not just a sliver of panties, mind you -- I saw her whole panty covered mound.

She kept that position for another minute, and all the while, I just kept looking. She glanced up with a grimace on her face and said, "you don't have an extra divot tool do you?"

I told her I didn't think so, and she simply turned her attention back to her golf bag and kept digging around, looking for it. Throughout all this, I'm still sitting there and I'm staring between her legs at the hot pink panties which were pulled tightly across her pussy. "Damn, what luck!" I thought to myself. First I see this girl's boobs at the airport and now I'm seeing her panties. "The girl is completely oblivious to what she's doing." I thought.

The instant the pro shop door opened and her Dad came out, she magically found her divot tool and stood up. "I knew I had one in there." Patty said, holding it up. Honestly, I didn't care if she'd found her divot tool or not -- I just wanted to see more of her panties.

Since we were a threesome, PJ suggested that he and I share a cart for the front nine and once we make the turn, Patty and I should ride together on the back nine. Hell, I was thankful to have any time alone with her, so I readily agreed and strapped my bag into the cart alongside PJ's.

Not more than 10 minutes later, when we were at the first tee, I saw her panties again and when we were putting, she bent over and I got another look straight down her top. Again, today she wasn't wearing a bra and I saw her tiny boobs clear as day.

When she stood up, she saw me looking and gave me a sly smile. And with each successive hole, I either got see her panties or I got to see her breasts. Her tiny nipples were on display, too, thrusting out wonderfully in the crisp morning air, a fact I'm sure her father must have noticed. But neither he, nor she, seemed to be the least bit bothered at her appearance, so I took advantage of the situation and enjoyed the show. She had my total attention and I'm almost positive she knew it.

When we were hitting over the water hazard on four, PJ and I stood behind her as she made her approach to the ball. We were quiet as she looked out over the water and up toward the pin. Then, PJ leaned over toward me. "She's quite fetching, isn't she, Paul?" He said quietly.

"Sir," I replied, "If you don't mind me saying, that's probably the biggest understatement I've ever heard a sane man say."

PJ, as he asked me to call him, just smiled and patted my back lightly as we watched Patty hit the ball and we followed it through the air as it rolled to the outer edge of the green. Damn, the girl was shooting right at par and I was already three over. I kept telling myself it was okay, though -- it was their home course and I'd never played it before. Plus, with the distractions being thrown my way, I was glad I wasn't eight over!

All the way through the front nine, Patty was more than generous with her panty and breast exposures. I kept waiting for her father to catch on, but he never did, and the show never stopped. I kept a perpetual hard-on for those two hours and I never complained one bit!

During the back nine, Patty talked up a storm in the cart with me. I let her drive, and under the guise of being a good conversationalist, and behind the safety of my dark sunglasses, I enjoyed the view of her dainty nipples jiggling under her shirt as she drove. Along the way, she told me her life story and I told her mine. The more time I spent with Patty, the more I realized she was actually a pretty cool person. Granted, they way she was showing herself off to me might have caused my initial interest, but after a while, I wondered if there wasn't a spark growing between us.

At the twelfth hole, PJ stopped to take a restroom break, so Patty and I hung out at the tee box waiting for him. I watched as she bent down to place her tee and set her ball up. She stayed bent over for a while which allowed me to get another clear view of both her petite breasts when the front of her shirt fell away from her chest. Continuing to adjust the height of the tee and the way the ball sat on it, she stayed bent over long enough for me to get an extra long look at her lovely breastlings. Moving toward her, I kneeled down across from Patty to brush away some leaves and grass clippings next to her tee. Imagine my surprise when she kneeled down opposite me. Glancing over her shoulder to see if her dad was coming yet - and then satisfied he wasn't, she allowed her knees to open wide enough for me to get an extremely close look at her pink panties.

The view she afforded me was nothing short of mind blowing, and I could easily make out the gusset of her panties and even the intricate stitching along the elastic between her thighs. I glanced up at her to see she'd caught me looking between her legs. Embarrassed that she caught me gawking at her panties, I quickly looked away and apologized, but, she reached out and softly grasped my hand saying, "No, it's okay, Paul. You can look. We can't let Daddy see, though."

My eyes dropped down between her legs again and she pivoted slightly, enough for the sun to shine directly on the silky fabric covering her pussy. I swear I could make out the lips of her labia pushing against the tight material of her panties. "Oh, Patty, that's so nice." I whispered as I looked up at her. My heart started to beat wildly as I stared at her panties.

"Daddy's coming." She whispered as she twisted her legs away from me.

With that, Patty stood up and I followed a second later. When PJ joined us, I had to turn away to discretely adjust my hardened manhood inside my pants. Patty saw my predicament and smiled, knowing full well she'd given me an embarrassing erection with her father about to walk right up to us.

When we got to sixteen, PJ hit off into the rough on the left side, so Patty and I waited in our cart while he went to look for his ball. Turning toward me and away from her Dad's view, she cocked one knee up on the seat between us and pulled her golf skirt up a little. Now to me, this was nothing short of blatant exhibitionism, and I made my mind up I was going to say something to her.

Initially, neither one of us said a word, but as she looked toward her father to make sure the coast was clear, my eyes traveled down between her legs and I was treated to a full, wide open view of those pink panties, which now had a very visible wet spot and the material was creased up between her pussy lips.

Without caring what her father might say if he saw, I stared between her legs and said "Patty, forgive me for saying this, but, if you've been trying to get me hot and bothered, I just want you to know that it worked. In fact, you've had me hot and bothered since I met you at the airport the other day."

"I wondered if you were ever going to bring that up." She replied cautiously. "I saw you looking down my top, you know." She looked at me and then asked, "You're a voyeur, aren't you?"

"And you're an exhibitionist." I answered. "It's kind of convenient that we met, don't you think?"

Patty looked over at me and shrugged her shoulders. "Most guys wouldn't bother looking down my top," she said, "there's not much to see down there. When you kept looking, I knew you were either a voyeur or small tit man."

"You know," I replied, "I sat in that airport for 30 minutes with a hard-on looking at your beautiful breasts, and then on my own flight, I spent another hour with a hard-on remembering what they looked like, and the instant I saw you this morning, I got excited all over again. And to tell the truth, you've kept me excited all day long."

"Yeah," she giggled, "I saw you back there trying to make yourself presentable when Daddy came back from the restroom."

"Found it!" We heard PJ yell. Patty pulled her skirt down and shifted her legs around and we turned to see her father walking toward us, about twenty yards out. As he got closer to the cart, I leaned over and said, "By the way, I think you're breasts are absolutely lovely."

"Why, thank you, kind sir." Patty said in return as a slight blush overtook her cheeks. "I don't think anyone has ever said that to me before."

"I'm not kidding," I whispered, "I mean that very sincerely."

I could see the blush spreading down Patty's neck. I think my comments embarrassed her and she glanced over at me in a bashful manner. I'm not sure why I did it, but while she was looking, I slipped my hand down into my pants and made an obvious move to straighten my cock out so my hard-on wouldn't be obvious when I stepped out of the golf cart. Patty watched the whole time.

"You've really had an erection all day?" Patty asked. "Because of me?"

Continued in the next chapter.