"You mean like this," she purred, arching her back across the hood of the car, supporting her weight with one leg foot on the concrete floor, the other, knee bent, on the front bumper.

"That's nice. But just a little more," I replied.

In truth, she was dangerously sexy without posing at all, and we both knew it. Some girls are just born that way, with an essence. But it rarely show itself until the first budding of breasts, the first wisps of angel hair in the hidden places, the first blood stain on white cotton panties. Then they have it, the hook, as hard as steel, and illusive as vapor. But it grabs you and doesn't let go. And that's what Cindy had.

She caste her eyes downward, puffing her lips into a pout that came to her as natural as rain. I snapped the shot. Perfect.

"Tell me a secret," she said, suddenly, as if possessed by fairy dust, catching me unprepared and dry mouthed. I swallowed hard.

"What kind of secret?"

She pushed herself further onto the hood, straightening her velvet legs, stretching her lean body to maximum lithe. Her T-shirt rode up across her thin ribcage, gathering in grateful folds around her small breasts.

"Tell me about your girlfriend. Something no one else knows. Not even her."

I was intrigued. This was not the kind of inquiry one would expect from a girl of thirteen. I felt my pulse quicken. My mind was racing. Where was this going?

"Don't cheat," she said, "I'll know if you're lying."

If it weren't already difficult enough to concentrate, Cindy stuck her thumb into the front of her cutoffs, pulling the waistline down slightly, exposing a small piece of black lace. I said the first thing that popped in my head.

"Well," I stammered, "When she's sleeping, she sometimes sticks out her tongue and makes little sucking noises. Like a baby wanting its bottle." ......(cont)