The track captain. Sun tanned skin, brown eyes looking through designer prescription glasses. She was wearing a sports bra and track shorts. I can see...the lines in her stomach, not a six pack but those sexy curves women get sometimes. She was sizing me up to. I am 6'2''. Mixed white and Mediterranean. Green eyes. Thin but athletic build. Not much to look at but I suppose I cold be worse off. She is a sprinter, I am a distance runner. We sit in silence a few more minutes.She finally breaks. "I. Shania looked up into my eyes. “I like your bed.” I shook my head. “Not going there.” “One day,” she said. “Then you’ll be mine forever.” I chuckled. “You need to stop talking nonsense. The idea of us becoming a couple is beyond absurd.” “You can tell me that you don’t want me, but everything you’ve done tells another story.” “What have I done, Shania?” I said, somewhat more gruffly than I intended. “I helped you out when you were in trouble. I stood beside you when you were in need. I fed you. After a dozen or so passes, Dirty began whipping around the turns faster and with more confidence. During our final pass, Dirty took the intersection turn too wide and sunk the side of the car into a spring ditch that paralleled one of the side roads. Both passenger side wheels went into the ditch, high-centering the car on the embankment. Fortunately, the ditch was rather narrow but the car tilted over in such a manner that the entire right side was smashed up against the opposite bank of. I immediately said I was. Then, with a twinkle in his eye, he asked me if she was a bold girl. “What do you mean?” I asked “Well” he smiled and said, “Is she bold enough to become a lingerie model?”My heart almost skipped a beat. Trying to keep a straight face, I said it depends, but would he elaborate a bit more. To cut it short, what he said amounted to this: there was a woman who was running her own business of lingerie and ladies undergarments. She would “import” lingerie thru her.