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"I'm not wearing any panties‚" she said her voice low‚ not a whisper but pitched so that only I could hear her. I couldn't think of anything to say that was even remotely appropriate. "I just wanted you to know the gind of girl I am‚" she continued. "Why?" She smiled. "Aren't we thinking of falling in love? You've been watching me." I hadn't been able to take my eyes off of her since she had arrived at the party‚ but I felt foolish at having been so obvious. "How do I know you're telling the truth?" I asked. "You don't." Her smile was playful and full of promise. "So‚ I have to trust you?" "God‚ no‚ don't trust me! No‚ I want you to spend the rest of the evening trying to find out. I want you wondering. You know what kind of girl I am-- if I am telling the truth-- I want to know what kind of guy you are." She walked away‚ giving me the chance to look at her as she walked slowly away from me. Her skirt was short and swingy‚ rather than tight‚ through which I could have tried to detect panty lines. I tried anyway‚ wondering if her pussy was bare and waiting for me under the thin material of that skirt. What kind of hose was she wearing? Did she also wear a garterbelt and stockings? She was a terrible flirt‚ talking freely to all the other guys‚ but making sure I was still watchig her. She was causally careful when she sat‚ and I knew she was willing me to try to lok up her skirt whenever she crossed her legs. I imagined her spreading her legs for me‚ my eyes traveling up her lean legs‚ past the tops of the stockings I wanted her to be wearing to the expanse of bare thigh above them. My eyes moved on to her cunt‚ revealed brazenly to me and inviting me. Blonde hair‚ a little darker than that on her head‚ trimmed short and shaved away from the lips of her pussy‚ highlight and framed her sex. And she was wet... Oh‚ it all so unfair. And then she ws beside me again. "Come on‚" her words came in a breathy frenzy‚ you've got me all wet. Let's go somewhere that I can get to know your hands‚"