Leanne the Lusty Lifeguard

Inside the car, Greg shook his head as his Uncle Merv said, "Mmm, mmm, mmm," licking his lips and rubbing his stomach like he was anticipating a tasty dinner as the young girl approached the car, adjusting her panties through her short overalls, Jane's knickers riding up into her vulva after she pulled them up so hastily after finishing on the toilet.

"Sorry to keep you waiting Mr. Tyler, I just had to go to the toilet," Jane apologized.

"No need to apologize Jane. Has anyone ever told you that you look so much like your name? Jane is such a pretty name for such a pretty girl," said Merv. "Did you know that the first Queen of England was called Jane? She was only Queen for nine days, but it still counts."

Jane knew what Merv was like so took him chatting her up all in her stride. She was used to guys flirting with her when she was serving them, and although Merv was a bit of a perve, at least he was funny. "Yes Mr. Tyler, I have heard about Queen Jane. So how may I help you this morning?"

"Five dollars of your very best Super petrol Miss Jane," said Merv, handing the petrol pump attendant his keys so she could open the petrol tank.

"Five dollars of Super coming right up," said Jane. She turned to Greg with a smile. "Morning Greg."

"Oh um, good morning Jane," said Greg. He always felt shy and awkward around pretty girls, and cute tomboy Jane was no exception.

"Did you have a nice New Year's?" Jane asked conversationally as she took the petrol pump and inserted into the tank, the numbers beginning to tick over on the bowser.

"Oh yeah, can't complain," said Merv, getting out of the car to get a better view of Jane's firm young breasts that swelled out under her tee-shirt and overall straps. He pointed at his nephew. "We even let young Greg here stay up past his bed time, but he was pretty tired the next day going to bed at 8.30 rather than the usual time of 7.30."

Greg blushed as his uncle laughed like a hyena and Jane laughed politely. "I didn't go to bed at 8.30," Greg stammered.

"So, how was your New Year's Eve, Jane?" Merv asked.

"Pretty good," said the teenager. "My boyfriend Brad and I went to Bondi with friends and saw the New Year's come in."

"Bondi Beach, very nice, one of my favorite places in the world," Merv asserted. "So how does it feel, living in the 1980s now? To me, it all still looks like the 1970s."

Jane laughed. "Yeah, it does. I was doing Dad's books earlier and I kept writing 1979, or 1970. I just can't get used to writing 1980 yet."

"I imagine things will be very different by 1990," said Merv. "I'll probably be getting served petrol by a robot. And who knows, by the year 2000 we might all be flying around in space ships?"

Once more, Jane laughed at Merv's jokes. The girl returned the nozzle to the bowser and turned to Greg. "Are you working today Greg?"

"I'm going to the pool," said Greg. "To work in the pool, no not actually in the pool, next to the pool, no at the center where the pool is ..." The young man blushed the color of a tomato as he again became tongue tied around the pretty young woman.

"You'll have to forgive my nephew, he's from Wollongong," laughed Merv as he handed over five dollars to Jane. "Have a good day Jane, I know I will watching the Aussies crush the Poms."

"Thanks Mr. Tyler, enjoy the cricket," said Jane. "You have a nice day too, Greg."

"Yes, enjoy the cricket too Jane -- sorry I mean at work -- you're not going to the cricket, I'm going to the cricket, no Uncle Merv's going to the cricket, not me -- I'm playing pool, I mean working at the pool," said Greg, again cringing as he became confused and tongue-tied much to the amusement of Merv, whose eyes followed Jane's cute teenage bottom accentuated by her short overalls as the young girl returned inside the petrol station.

Merv started the car and drove out of the service station. "I feel kind of bad catching young Jane on the loo with her knickers down like that," he said. He grinned at his nephew and guffawed. "Still, I wouldn't mind getting Jane's knickers down in other circumstances, hey? And if I could be an inanimate object for just 24 hours I would choose a toilet seat that Jane sat down on. Imagine Jane's hot little bum naked and sitting you."

Greg grimaced. "That's gross Uncle Merv. I don't like to think about it."

"True, it wouldn't be that good if young Jane had eaten something that didn't agree with her and she got a bit of a stomach upset," laughed Merv. "But I'd forgive her. You know one thing about Jane? All day I'll be thinking about her cute boobs inside her bra, and getting inside her knickers to check out her pussy and that cute bum of hers, even though I never will. Your Aunt Rose has a perfectly good set of boobs, a nice bum and a hot pussy, and I can get into her knickers most times I like as long as I've been good. But I think about what's inside Jane's bra and knickers way more than what's inside your Aunt Rose's bra and knickers."

"Again, I don't like to think about it," said the dismayed Greg. Uncle Merv was certainly on form this morning, and he was glad he was catching the bus home rather than getting another lift from his uncle, even if it meant sitting next to the old man who had pissed his pants hours earlier like last week.

"I don't know who came up with the expression 'Plain Jane', but its bullshit," Uncle Merv continued. "Every Jane I've ever met has been hot. You know, my first time was with a girl called Jane? She even looked a bit like the Jane at the petrol station. It was back in 1945 and I was 18, but I remember it like it was yesterday. Jane took me back to her parents' house when they and her brothers and sister were out, and let me get into her knickers. Her fanny flooded like the Brisbane River in 1974 or Darwin after Cyclone Tracy had gone through as I was screwing her and when she came she screamed like a banshee. Then just as we'd finished, her parents got home."

"What happened next?" Greg asked.

Merv laughed. "Her Dad was this big bloke like a gorilla, so there was no way I was hanging around. I was skinny like you back then and pretty quick so I pulled on my undies -- so fast I nearly castrated myself - grabbed my clothes and went out the window and down the drainpipe while Jane put her knickers, bra and dress on. I jumped the fence into the back lane where the cart went to empty the backyard dunnies, and I needed a place to put on my clothes so I jumped over the back fence of another house and went into their dunny to get changed. I'd just put on my shoes when the door opens and the hot girl who lived at that house walks in with some sheets of newspaper to have a shit."

Greg couldn't avoid laughing at the scene in his head. "Did she scream?"

"Nah, but she was really mad and told me to piss off or she'd call the police. She probably thought I was a toilet pervert, or even worse a poofter. All sorts of weird poofter shit used to go on down those dark, dingy back lanes and alleys in Sydney back then. Most important, Jane's Dad and her brothers never found out I'd fucked her, so I didn't get my arse kicked."

"You were lucky," said Greg.

"Yeah, but it's all about confidence," said Merv. "You need confidence in life, not just with girls. Like when me and your Dad were younger, we used to go into pubs and drink before we turned 21. Norm and me always went during the six o'clock swill when it was busy, and we would confidently ask for a beer. If we'd been all nervous, people would have guessed we were under-age and kicked us out. And now, when I'm selling a car that has some, shall we say shortfalls, I confidently tell the buyers all the car's good points and how it is the perfect vehicle for them. Unfortunately my friend, confidence is something you don't have. Back at the petrol station, young Jane was being nice to you and you came off sounding like some sort of spastic. What's up with you?"

"I get nervous around her, I don't know why," mumbled Greg, blushing as he thought about how Jane was not the only pretty girl he became tongue-tied around.

"Well, if you can't talk sensibly to a friendly girl like Jane who has a boyfriend and who you don't have a crush on, how are you ever going to ask that Morgan girl you like out on a date?" Merv challenged.

Greg was taken aback. "How do you know I have a crush on Morgan -- I don't ..." he stammered.

Merv grinned. "You bring her into just about every conversation. Rose, Andrea or I ask you how your day went, and there's some reference to Morgan. Morgan this, Morgan that. Morgan, Morgan -- where for art thou, Morgan? I take it Morgan has red hair, from what you say about her?"

"Yes, she does have red hair," said Greg.

"You know, I've never ever screwed a redhead," said Merv. "One time your Dad bet me I couldn't get this hot young redhead into bed. I tried my best, but couldn't close the damn deal so not only did I miss out on screwing a pretty redhead, I lost money too. I won it back though. A few weeks later, I bet Norm I could get into the knickers of some rich girl from Vaucluse. Not only did I screw that rich chick's arse off in her parents' bed, I got money from my brother for doing it."

Greg did not want to hear about his father and uncle having bets on screwing girls around Sydney in the years after the Second World War, but Merv kept right on talking. "So, with young Morgan you get a chance to go to a place your Uncle Merv never has -- into a redhead's knickers."

They had arrived at the swimming pool now, and Uncle Merv pulled into the car park. "So, where's Morgan?" the older man asked, his eyes roaming around the area.

Greg could not answer, he was struck dumb as in his line of sight Morgan appeared, the girl having got off the bus. The pretty and slim redhead, her long hair flowing down her shoulders in the early morning breeze wore the same uniform as Greg and other staff members at the pool, and shorts on her bottom half, sandals on her feet.

"That's her?" Uncle Merv asked, to which his nephew could only nod. "I thought so. You've got good taste my friend, good taste. That is one hot little redhead. Y -- U -- M -- yum!" He licked his lips and rubbed his expanded stomach and grinned his leering grin. "I bet you can't wait to see if young Morgan's carpet matches her curtains, hey?"

Morgan was making her way past the car into the entrance of the swimming pool, Greg desperately hoping that she would not notice Uncle Merv watching her with no discretion at all.

"Aren't you going to say hello to her?" Merv asked. "I'll get her to come over." He put his hand over the horn like he was going to press it and leaned out the open car window opening his mouth as though ready to call out, horror filling every cell in Greg's body.

"No, no -- please don't ..." Greg pleaded, before his uncle grinned.

"Relax, I was only joking around," he said, continuing to watch Morgan's slim teenage body as the girl walked to the entrance to the swimming pool complex. "So, what sort of things does Morgan like? You need to find some sort of common interests before you ask her out."

"Well, I know she's studying to be a teacher ..." Greg began.

"A teacher? Wow, back in my day all the female teachers were all old bags and ..." Merv's voice trailed away, his interest now completely on a bicycle rode past the car at speed.

It was not the bicycle that interested Merv so much as the person riding it. Had the bicycle been ridden by a man or a woman plain in looks it would hardly have attracted so much as a passing glance from Merv. But the bicycle was ridden by a stunning, six-foot-four blonde aged in her early 20s whose long hair flowed as though in slow motion as she cycled through the car park, before slowing down at the bike racks.

"Oh yeah!" exclaimed Uncle Merv, watching with great interest as the tall blonde girl, wearing a tee-shirt, shorts and sneakers, a small back-pack over her shoulders, swung her long legs off the bicycle and chained it up. "Who is that girl, and why haven't you told me about her before?"

"Her name is Connell," said Greg.

Uncle Merv looked confused. "Connell? What sort of a name is that for a girl?"

"I mean Leanne -- Leanne Connell," said Greg, annoyed at himself for saying dumb things again. "She's a lifeguard and the assistant manager here -- she runs the swimming lessons over the school holidays."

"She teaches swimming? I think I need to have some lessons."

"Uncle Merv, you won awards for swimming at school," Greg pointed out.

"Yeah, but I could do with a refresher course." Merv observed the pretty blonde sweep her long hair back from her face, reach into her back-pack and take out a water bottle to have a drink. "I'd like to put something else in her mouth, wouldn't you?" Merv again chuckled suggestively. "Leanne looks pretty fit."

"She is," said Greg. "She competes in triathlon -- you know, swimming, running and cycling."

Having finished her drink, Leanne turned and walked towards the swimming pool entrance. "Keep watch for me, Greg," said Merv. "Let me know if anyone comes by."

"Why's that?"

"So I can go over and sniff the seat of young Leanne's bike, that's why," laughed Merv. He laughed even harder at the horrified look on Greg's face. "Don't worry, I won't do it with all these people around. But if I was completely alone and there was no chance of getting caught, then yeah for sure. Hey, wouldn't it be great to be a pair of Leanne's knickers when she's out cycling, the seat pressing them up into her warm moist fanny? And believe it or not, I once fucked a girl who looked just like Leanne."

"I don't believe it," said Greg.

"No bullshit," Merv assured him. "It was up in Newcastle and her name was Sandra. It was back in the late 1940s, and I was doing my national service at the time. Now, being from Newcastle young Sandra couldn't work out I was trying to chat her up at first. She kept expecting me to point at her, grunt at her, beat my chest, swing from the trees and go 'ooo-ooo-ooo' like the local boys do when they're trying to breed. But luckily young Sandra got the idea and I soon got out of my army uniform and into Sandra's knickers. If I was you, I'd be asking Leanne out rather than Morgan."

"She's older than me, and she's already got a boyfriend," said Greg.

"What, maybe three or four years?" asked Merv. "That's nothing. And has she told you she has a boyfriend?"

"Well no, but there's this really tall guy -- I think his name is Derek - he's even taller than her and I've seen them running and cycling together and he picked her up from work the other day."

"Have you asked Leanne if this Derek guy is her boyfriend?"

"I can't go around asking her things like that."

"Sure you can," said Merv. "You can't ask Leanne how old she was when she got her first period, and you can't ask her if when she goes to the toilet to have a shit whether she folds or scrunches the toilet paper when she wipes her arse. But you can ask her if she has a boyfriend."

"No I can't," Greg insisted.

"You don't have to ask her straight out, just bring him into a conversation with her, like saying that you saw her and her boyfriend Derek cycling the other day. She'll correct you if you're wrong. For all you know, Derek could be her brother, cousin or a just a male friend," said Merv. "Although it would be hard to be just friends with Leanne. Even a poof would want to get her knickers down and root her. You should try your luck. I think you could have a real chance with Leanne."

Greg was now getting out of the car so he would be on time for work. "Do you really think so?"

Merv burst out laughing. "No way, Leanne is miles out of your league. Did you think I was serious? Where do you think we live, Fairyland? There is more chance of seeing Australia's cricket team bowling underarm than you getting into Leanne's pants. So, have a good day and try not to blow it with young Morgan."

"See you tonight, thanks for the lift," said Greg, feeling embarrassed not to mention crest-fallen as Uncle Merv drove away.

Greg walked inside the complex, to where he and Morgan would be working as cashiers first thing, handling the early rush of customers. Morgan was already at her desk, looking down. Feeling the same nerves he always did when he approached his crush, Greg walked up to her. "Hi Morgan."

Morgan let out a squeak of shock having not seen the young man approach her, visibly jumping and knocking the change float she was counting onto the floor. Her heart beating fast, Morgan looked up with a sharp expression on her pretty face, glaring accusingly at Greg with her green eyes.

Greg immediately turned bright red, hugely embarrassed and horrified that he had frightened Morgan and caused her to drop her change float all over the floor. "Morgan, I'm really sorry -- I didn't mean to startle you."

"Unfortunately you did," said Morgan, the teenager peeved as she looked at the change all over the floor.

"Let me help you with that," said Greg, bending over to make amends to Morgan by picking up the change for her. Unfortunately, Morgan also bent down to pick up the change at the same moment and the teenagers bashed their heads together.

"Ouch!" Morgan protested, rubbing her sore head.

"Again, I'm really sorry Morgan," said the mortified Greg. "I'll pick up the change for you ..."

"No Greg, thanks but it really might be better if I did it," said Morgan.

Greg thought it better not to risk scaring or injuring Morgan anymore, so meekly went to his own counter to take his own float.

"I've lost count now," Morgan muttered to herself as she picked up her own notes and coins, and recounted them.

When the swimming pool gates opened at nine, customers queued to be served by either Greg or Morgan. "Can I help you please?" Morgan asked a man of about retirement age who was first in line. The man went to her counter, pleased to be served by the pretty redhead.

Greg was most dismayed as the next customer in line made her way to his counter, but maintained politeness. The customer was a woman named Patsy Prentice, a regular at the swimming pool who had squeezed her overweight body into bathers at least a size too small for her and had her three unruly sons and equally unruly daughters with her.

"Hi Greg, how are you?" she asked, before extricating from her shoulder bag the reason Greg disliked serving her; a large plastic bag full of one, two and five cent coins to pay for admission to the pool for herself and her kids.

"Good thanks Mrs. Prentice," said Greg, pondering how he could talk to the older overweight woman just fine, yet struggled with pretty girls his own age like Jane and Morgan. Patsy counted out all the small change for her and her kids' admission, Greg wondering how she came by such small change all the time. Did she go to the bank with ten dollars and have it all changed into small coins before visiting the swimming pool?

Counting out all the change took time, and in this time Morgan had served five customers to Greg's one. It was a similar story through the morning rush, Greg getting the odd customers who took ages to serve, Morgan the normal customers. One guy even paid for his admission with a fifty dollar note, wiping out all of Greg's change float in one hit. The only thing Greg was grateful for was that they had no hundred dollar notes in Australia.

When the morning rush died down, Greg said to Morgan, "So, how was your New Year?"

Morgan shrugged dismissively. "Fine thanks, I can't complain."

"I had a good New Year ..." Greg began, before the telephone rang.

"Excuse me," said Morgan, the teenager answering the phone while Greg looked through into the main pool area.

The view was very pleasant indeed for the young man, or indeed any young man. Leanne had changed into red bathers, the young lifeguard's large breasts filling out the front, her long blonde hair flowing down, her long legs from her shapely bottom down to her bare feet accentuating her beauty, as did her natural tan. So absorbed with observing the six foot four blonde beauty was Greg that it was only an impatient male voice that brought him back to reality.