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Not truckers by any means. Too young and preppy and “from money” looking. College guys just pulling over for a cup of coffee, Donnie had surmised. But then he’d agreed with Kevin that this wasn’t the place that three college guys would pull over to on this stretch of road. There were fast food joints nearby—not to mention a Starbucks nearly across the road.“Them guys?” Donnie repeated.“Yep. I’ve noticed it before. This is the third time this year,” Kevin said, turning away from the boys and watching the rig driver approach the café. “He don’t come in here that often—I see him maybe once a month, maybe not as often. I stock shelves here for my uncle, so I’m in here more than I’m not. But I noticed the last three times. Two, three guys like that come in here and order coffee and watch the door, and not long after, his rig drives up and here he comes just a struttin’ in the door, pretty as you please.”“Gotta be drugs,” Donnie said.“Yep, that’s what I figured too at first,” Kevin said,. We talked for half an hour or so, about this and that. It was getting cold so we decided to go inside. I made us some hot chocolate before joining her in the lounge. I handed her the hot chocolate and sat next to her on the couch. The conversation slowed as we drank the chocolate, but a sense of comfort had developed between us, so the silences did not feel awkward.Natasha placed her empty cup on the coffee table and lay down on the couch. She placed her head on the armrest, and stretched her legs out onto my lap. I had a brief glimpse of white lace panties when she placed her legs onto my lap.The tantalising flash of white drew my perverted eyes. I looked up her dress. Her thighs were closed together, obscuring most of the view. I could see just see a small patch of white lace with dark hair underneath. The view was intoxicating.After taking a moment to appreciate the sight. I looked up and met her eyes. She had been watching me the whole time, and knew that I was looking up her.
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