The hem of her dress just barely covered her rounded ass. A wide-brimmed hat covered her face. Then, it happened so suddenly, I had to do a double-ta...e. A fluttering hat went by my windshield and landed to the left of my car. A white blur went across my sight line and then my eyes followed suit. To my left was Misty, bending over at the waist, picking up her hat. Her dress rode up her thigh and over her ass, giving me a glimpse of her g-string and her creamy white bottom. A horn sounded. Then there was me, 14, short blonde hair, a wisp of hair around my cock and a little on my balls, some under my arms and a nice defined farm boy body. I did not work out with weights, but I had to help on the farm, so I regularly moved bales of hay and straw, as well as lifting the milk tanks from under the cows. I won't say I was buff, but I was defined in a way that hard work does to a growing boy.I didn't mind the magazines, however, I was more interested in the boys and how they played with. “Yes. Barbara wants to shut things down and Christen wants to start shipping,” Candy said.“Everyone done in back?” Margaret said.“No. Chris and Marty are kind of backed up. They won’t get out for another hour or so,” Candy said.“Candy is our production manager. I can depend on her to know what is going on,” Margaret said.Abby came to the sobering realization that she was the only one here who was still dressed. And that the people were talking about closing up. Which meant that she was out of. Then tells me that she was hit on by a Pakistani guy. I shrug it off saying it's creepy to do in a gym. Bearing in mind the town she moved to has a large Asian community and large Mosque. A community which she happened to live right alongside.Over the next few weeks each time her going to the gym is brought up in conversation she tells me that yet another guy has hit on her at the gym. She makes it sound like an annoyance to her but it's increasingly making me more frustrated. I start saying.