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He had black hair that fell well beyond his shoulders. She didn’t even realize that she sighed or that she had failed to completely close the flap. Dirt encrusted fingers still holding it open enough to allow her daring eyes a prolonged look inside. Somewhere in the back of her mind begging him to turn around so that she could the face that had been hidden to her. He didn’t but the rumbling tenor of his voice when he greeted her Master was enough to bring tears to her eyes. Like thunder before a summer rain storm. It was a voice that had all the other girls, no matter what they were doing, sending discreet glances in his direction. Lowering her gaze back to the deep russet tones of dirt beneath her knees, she let the fabric fall back into place. Effectively slamming the door on any further daydreams, she might dare to hope, his image would conjure. It would only serve to further depress her. Perhaps… Just one. He had not meant to stand outside the tent and stare at the pile of grime. Quit lookin’ at ’em, before you hit another cart.” I snapped. “I wasn’t looking at your breasts!” He protested, moving his head around to cast his gaze elsewhere, any where else he could get them. “I was looking at those watermelons.” I folded my arms beneath my watermelo-nish rack and lifted an eyebrow, fighting a smirk. “Unnah, I mean, I was checking out those Cassavas.” I lifted my other eyebrow, snickering now. “No! No that’s not what I meant! Pumpkins! I was definitely taking a long hard look at a couple of pumpkins!” “Strike three Mister. Give it up.” He sighed, slumping a little in defeat. I looked him up and down, and now I was the one guilty of ogling. Not his great muscles, nor that chiseled version of Keanu Reeves face of his, but rather that massive bulge bursting in his loose-fitting pants. That couldn’t be real! I had to know. “And if being a pervert weren’t enough! You’re clearly one of those overcompensating gym-rat guys! How could you expect anyone to be gullible.
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