It was exactly forty-eight hours later. Bambi Starr was walking down South Road in her bare feet and cut-offs.

Coming the other way, with a fishing pole over his shoulder, was Billy Bob Phelan, his big mouth already grinning in the distance at the pretty girl. Bambi Starr liked Billy Bob Phelan well enough. After all, he was a guy.

"Hi, Bambi."

"Hi, Billy Bob."

"Whatcha doing?"

"Just wandering."

"Wanna go skinny-dipping?"

"Why not?"

"Let's go down by the creek?"

"You fishing?"

"I might, might not."

"I'll bait your hook."

"I thought worms grossed girls out."

"Nothing grosses me out, Billy Bob Phelan," Bambi Starr said.

"My friend Arnold told me about you and him," Billy Bob Phelan said.

"I figured Arnold did not know how to keep his mouth shut."

"Is all of that stuff Arnold told me true?" the young man asked.

"I doubt if Arnold is smart enough to make up anything wilder than what we did," the amoral female said.

"Wow."

They were down by the creek. Billy Bob Phelan set down his fishing rod.

"I see you are packing two kinds of rods," the girl said.

"What do you mean?"

"You have a rod inside your pants," the amoral female said.

"Oh yeah," Billy Bob Phelan said – and then he blushed brightly.

"Are we going skinny-dipping or what?" the amoral female said.

"Yeah, by all means," Billy Bob Phelan exclaimed happily.

Bambi Starr removed her top and her tits bobbed free in the sun. So white.

Nipples so red.

Off came her shorts. Bambi Starr was wearing no underwear. Bambi Starr liked the way Billy Bob Phelan was staring at her.

"Billy Bob?"

"Yeah?"

"You are staring."