Page 28 of Baby Girl

“We’re going east of here about twenty miles, to a small airport,” he said, turning to the left as he spoke, “it’s a small airport with a patio that you can sit and drink, eat, and just relax at. The planes fly in and out just a few feet from where you sit. There are old bi-wing planes there. It’s really quite nice and relaxing. We will have fun.”

“Sounds fun,” I said.

“Here we are, The Buckle,” he said, stopping in front of the store.

I looked at the front of the store as if I was lost. I didn’t realize we had walked this far, from one end of the mall to the other. I looked up at him as if to get permission to enter. He nodded and motioned toward the store entrance.

We walked into the store together, arm in arm. Something about having my arm around his, his claiming me in public, making it known we were together – made me feel special. It made me feel warm inside. There was no gift on this earth that this man could give me that would be greater than the way he made me feel. As we walked back to the display of women’s jeans, I smiled.

“What’s funny, baby girl,” he asked as he turned toward me, smiling.

Never. I would never get sick of him saying that. Baby girl. I felt rubber legged when he said it. Don’t. Stop. Calling. Me. That. Ever.

“I was just thinking. I am happy today, that’s all, no reason.”

“I am happy as well, Kelli,” he said, “It’s a gorgeous day, and I am having a great time.”

I wondered what he meant. Was he happy because of me? Because of what I did at the restaurant? Because I had an orgasm for him like a good girl? Or was it some other reason? I wanted to know but didn’t want to ruin anything by asking. I decided to take my father’s advice and keep my mouth shut. Being quiet was the smart move.

“Here they are,” I said as I picked up the jeans.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yes, I only wear one style from here, this is them. Do you like them?” I asked, holding them up for him to see.

“Try them on, baby girl,” Erik said. I felt as if I had no choice. His tone of voice often changed, and although it was not loud, or disrespectful, he had a ‘direct’ tone. This was it.

“Yes, sir,” I responded, walking toward the cashier.

“Excuse me; can you unlock a dressing room?” I asked the girl behind the counter.

“Five and six are unlocked,” she said as she twisted her hair in one finger, pointing to the rear of the store with the other.

“Okay, thank you,” I responded in a smart-ass tone.

I hated teens. I know that five years ago, I was a senior in high school, but it seemed so far away now. Now that I had completed college, the thought of being in high school seemed so distant

“Do you know her?” Erik asked.

“No, I just hate high school girls,” I said, now wondering how Erik might respond.

“So do I, baby girl, so do I.”

We walked through the aisles to the dressing rooms in the rear. As we walked past the various displays, Erik was very attentive to the clothes that they had out. He turned and looked at several, feeling the fabric or making a remark about something, and how it would look on me. When we got to the rear of the store, I looked at our reflection in the mirror. Erik looked great; tall, muscular, with very good posture. I looked like I had bird legs. After I confirmed the door handle was unlocked, I told Erik I would be right back out.

I pulled off my shoes and removed my shorts, placing them on the bench. I unfolded the jeans, and struggled to get into them. After I had them on they felt like they fit well, but getting into them was difficult. I looked for a mirror, and there wasn’t one in the room. I opened the door, and stepped out to look at them, and to show Erik.

“Do you like them?” I asked, rotating in a circle so he could see all angles of my physique.

“Love them. Where are your shoes, baby girl?”

“Oh, I left hem in the dressing room,” I said pointing in the room.

Erik walked past me, and into the dressing room. He motioned to me with his hand to come into the dressing room. I looked through the store, which was almost empty, and walked into the room.

“What are you doing?” I whispered.

He held his index finger to his lips, giving me the symbol to be quiet, and leaned toward my face. With his finger still crossing his lips, he brushed my hair behind my ear with his other hand. I could feel his lips touching the lobe of my ear, and feel his breath on my ear and neck. His mouth moved from my ear along my neck to my shoulder, and I felt his breath on my skin as he moved. It was as if he smelled me with his mouth.