Dr Hooters Pt. LVI
by the Road Dog
COMING AND GOING 


The  beautiful young English girl sat out at the corner bus stop,
awaiting the bus into town.  She gathered up  the  folds  of  her
long  flowing  floral-print  skirt, folded them under, and sat on
them.  Much paler than the curious Floridians  that  watched  her
from  their  cars,  she  protected herself from the fierce sun by
hiding under an open newspaper.

Crossing her slim, muscular, adolescent legs at the ankles, Penny
tried to remember what Sukie told her.  But was it the 'S' bus to
the Flagler Mall, or the 'F' bus to the Slagler Mall?  The second
had an unwholesome sound to it, but you could never tell with the
way these Yanks butchered the language.

Anyway, both busses whizzed by the stop at about  fifteen  minute
intervals,  the  legend  'Downtown' blazoned across their fronts,
'downtown' obviously being some American barbarism for  the  town
centre.  Penny swallowed hard and chose the 'F' bus at last.

American buses were much less crowded that their English counter-
parts, and Penny found herself only one of six  passengers.   The
bus wound its way up the beach, crossing to the mainland across a
narrow causeway past some tall white buildings, then turned south
and weaved its way in and out of a dozen indistinguishable neigh-
borhoods with pastel houses and well-manicured lawns.

Passengers got on and off the bus, until finally, the driver  ad-
dressed her.  "Young lady, where are you trying to go?"

"To the Slagler Mall", she replied.

The driver laughed heartily.  "That's the **Flagler** Mall, Miss,
and its on the other end of town from here.  You'll need to  take
Bus 14 out that way.  I'll drop you off on the next corner.  Num-
ber 14 comes right by there."

Thanking the driver, Penny got off the bus and walked over to the
bench  to  await  the  promised number 14.  When, over forty-five
minutes later, the number 14 hadn't arrived, she decided to  take
a  look  around.  She was in a well-kept neighborhood, on a major
thoroughfare.  Cars zoomed past, driving on the wrong side of the
road,  as  usual.   A lot of them honked at her.  She had already
learned not to wave back in her own country.

On the other side of the street she saw what looked like a  foot-
ball match in progress.  Two teams of uniformed boys were chasing
a white ball around a field, and the more she watched,  the  more
she was certain that they were playing good old English football,
which she had been told was not at all popular in  America.   En-
chanted, she crossed the street for a closer look.

One  team  was composed of some swarthy lads in green shirts, and
when they shouted back and forth among themselves, Penny couldn't
make  out  what  they were saying.  Foreigners, she decided, just
then realizing that she herself was a foreigner here as well.

The other team, the red shirts,  were  American  boys,  and  they
seemed to be getting the worst of it.  The swarthy boys were much
superior to them in ball-handling  and  tactics,  and  they  con-
trolled the ball better than seventy percent. of the time, mount-
ing attack after attack on the beleaguered American goal.

One lad, in particular, refused to surrender total  dominance  to
the opposing team without a fight.  He was slim, not overly tall,
and had a thick mop of brown hair that bounced on his head as  he
ran.   He  would  appear  on the sides at the rarest times, often
snatching the ball away from a surprised  opponent  who  expected
him to be on the other side of the field.

Penny found herself drawn to the plucky lad. "Come on you reds!",
she yelled.  Then, the next time the feisty boy knocked the  ball
away  from  one  of  the green shirts, she blurted out, "Take 'im
out, lad!  Good boy!"  Ohmigod, she thought, what  am  I  saying.
She  glanced  around  to  see if anyone was listening.  The dark-
haired boy looked over at her,  broke  his  concentration,  which
caused  him  to  fumble an important pass.  She felt bad for him.
Looks kind of like Griggsy, she thought to herself.  Plays a  bit
like him, too.

Soon,  her  presence and her interest became obvious to the lad's
teammates as well, who elbowed him in the  ribs  and  pointed  in
Penny's  direction  as  she cheered the boy on.  Finally, despite
her hero's best efforts, the match ended with  the  swarthy  lads
winning  1-0.  The teams filed off the field, and Penny turned to
go when she heard a voice behind her.

"Hey, you!  Girl in the grey flowered skirt!  Wait up!"   It  was
the brown-haired boy still sweaty and marked up from the match.

Flushed  and  excited, Penny dropped her eyes and thrust her con-
siderable bosom out slightly.  "Hello",  she  responded.   "Sorry
your lot lost, but *you* had a good game, though."

"Thank you", he answered.  "Where are you from?"

Penny  laughed, tossing her fine blonde hair back onto her shoul-
ders.  You can tell I'm not a local then, can't you?   I'm  Penny
Mallory,  from England.  My sister won a sweepstakes and we're on
holiday here for the month."

The boy smiled.  Penny decided he was  much  handsomer  at  close
range  than  he had appeared from the field.  His stout legs were
thickly muscled, covered with the fine down of early adolescence,
and his grey eyes twinkled merrily.

"My  name's Chris", he said, forgetting his manners and extending
a sweaty palm.  "Chris Gibson, and I've lived  in  Century  Beach
all  my  life.  But if all the other English girls are as cute as
you, I'll have to go there someday."

Penny felt a shiver run down her spine as he said this.  Oh damn!
She  thought.   I'm  falling.   Can't  be helped, I suppose.  She
gathered her courage and paid him back his own coin.  "I'm  Pene-
lope  Mallory,  but  if you call me that, I'll have your guts for
garters.  Penny, my mates call me,  Pen  for  short.   And  if  I
thought that all American boys were as cute as you, I'd have come
a lot sooner.  Do you always talk to strange girls after football
matches?"

"Football?   Oh  right,  football.  Its called soccer over here",
Chris corrected her.  "No, I thought you were  my  brother's  fi-
ancee.  There are a couple of things about both of you that sorta
stand out, even at a distance."

Penny blushed again, and stared down at what Chris had  just  re-
ferred to.  Her figure had always attracted attention, ever since
she started developing at about nine or ten.   Even  before  Jen-
nie's visit, she was accustomed to boys making rude remarks about
her generous breasts, which were  large  enough  on  her  slender
frame.   Now, things had became almost impossible.  Jennie's for-
mula had gifted her with plump forty-five inch tits, the size  of
ripe  cantaloupes, but her waist was as trim and her hips as slim
as ever.  If the boys had been rude  before,  they  were  caustic
now.

What  Penny had no defense against was a boy making funny and en-
dearing remarks about them,  especially  a  boy  as  handsome  as
Chris.

Penny and Chris stared at each other nervously.  They had reached
that awkward stage in a conversation where one party has to  move
it  forward,  or both have to let it drop.  Neither of them could
think of a thing to say, yet neither of them wanted  to  see  the
other walk away, possibly forever.  So they stared.

Finally,  to Penny's great relief, Chris asked her where she went
to school.  Immediately he caught himself.   "God,  what  a  dumb
question",  he  moaned.   "You  don't  go  to any school anywhere
around here."  He was embarrassed that his interest was so trans-
parent.  Would she laugh at him?

Penny  laughed,  a  musical  little laugh.  "Nah.  Its not a dumb
question at all.  I was going to ask you what form  you  were  in
myself."

"-?-"

"You know, what year you are in school", she continued.

Chris  relaxed,  leaning against the fence.  He was a popular guy
at school, and having a big brother in a  well-known  local  band
didn't  hurt  his  chances with the girls at Flagler High at all.
But he was totally entranced by this English girl with her outra-
geous  accent,  who  appeared out of the blue at his soccer prac-
tice.  His eyes devoured every  detail  of  her  appearance;  her
cornflax-colored hair, her crystal blue eyes, her creamy complex-
ion [he had heard rumors, even at his  age,  about  the  skin  of
girls  who  rarely saw the sun], the prominent swell of her ample
breasts rising and falling with her breath, much larger than  any
other  girl's  he  knew,  except  for  his brother's fiancee, and
then...

He came back to himself suddenly when he realized she was waiting
for  an answer to her question.  "Uh, I'm in the tenth grade next
year.  I'm fifteen."

"Good", Penny said, smiling.  It seemed to Chris that  the  whole
sky  lit  up with her smile.  Some of his teammates called to him
from the stands, but he waved them on.  "I'm  thirteen,  fourteen
in  October  actually.   I'll be starting fourth year myself next
autumn, if they'll have me back."

"Whadd'ya mean 'if they'll have me back'?  You  kill  someone  or
something?"

The  blood  rushed  to Penny's cheeks.  Ohmigod! she thought, her
heart skipping several beats.  How do you tell a boy you've  just
met,  the  Love  of  Your  Whole Life, that you got the boot from
school because your tits were too big?  She scuffled  the  ground
with her feet.  "It's a long story, Chris.  I'm sorry."

Chris  laughed, and grabbed Penny's hand across the fence.  "Lis-
ten.  What're you doing in this neighborhood?  You're miles  from
the beach."

Penny  told  him.   "There's no easy way from here to the Flagler
Mall by bus, Penny.  Better you come home with  me",  Chris  told
her.   "Mom  can  drive  us out there later, and then back to the
beach.  If you want, we can go swimming.   My  brother's  fiancee
has a couple of her swim suits at the house, and she's about your
size, lucky girl."

Penny dropped her eyes.  "Thanks, Chris", she purred.  "I'd  like
that lots."

She  walked  around  to  his side of the fence, and Chris sponta-
neously slipped his arm around her slender  waist,  crushing  her
against  his still-damp polyester shirt.  Phworrr, she thought, I
wonder what he smells like after a shower...  But  the  sensation
of  his  arm around her was more agreeable than the smell was ob-
jectionable, so she consented.

"There's one more thing, Penny", he said.  "I need a date for  my
brother's  engagement  party Friday.  Can you, would you, go with
me?"  Actually, Chris thought, I have a date for the party.  I'll
just  have  to  tell Justine I gotta floss my teeth or something.
"Its going to be just super.  My brother's band's gonna play, and
half the town's sure to be there!"

"I'd  love  that, Chris", she responded, slipping her hand around
his waist as well.










































