"Do you like me?"
"Being no fool, little girl, I'll say I do, and it's not quite a fair question, I don't even know your name."
"Dianne, if it will make you feel any better," she said softly as she rose to a standing position.
Clark did mental somersaults. She couldn't be much more than sixteen, yet her breasts bore the full aura of a woman, rising and falling, graceful and full. The trim contours of her young body were sleek, lithe lines of feminine muscle that were attractive, outlined through the thin material of her clothes. He felt quite a lump in his throat, the reason for this being that she filled out that age old form that had enchanted the male from the time of the much maligned Adam to Clark's furiously pounding heart.
"Damned if you're not pretty," he breathed in an undertone that was more than complimentary.
"Thanks," she said in the high prim voice of a girl, and cocking her head again, added; "and I still don't know your name."
"Clark, if it'll help any," he said. "How come ... uh, er. How did you happen to find me?"
"I didn't find you, Clark, so deflate your ego a little. You just happened to be here when I came."
"Come here every day, eh?" She smiled a deep pretty smile. Clark noticed she had dimples.
"Every day," she said.