It was the annual charity cricket match and my present wife was helping with the teas while I stood on the balcony with my next-door neighbour and who was organizer of the event.

"Fuck me, will you look at that," he cried, and then anxiously checked that his loudspeaker mike was switched off.

I followed his gaze as saw a very beautiful young girl.

"She's Mike Trevor's girl, Sandy," he explained, "she must be what, sixteen or seventeen by now."

Mike was one of the oldest and most popular members of the club and still played every Saturday. She wore tight hipster jeans and a white top cut short at both ends showing a goodly mount of tanned flesh. As I studied her, she looked up and smiled and waved at us.

As I went wandering about during the afternoon, I would sometimes see her and again she would smile at my bold stare. At my age and shape a bold stare was all I could manage. It was getting on for home time, my wife had left some time ago and now I thought I'd beat the rush and leave also. I said my goodbyes to all my friends and colleagues but she was nowhere to be seen. I walked towards the large car park and there she was, waiting by my car

"How about a lift?" she asked with a toothy smile.

"Sure," I replied, once I confirmed it was me she was talking too.

I'm not sure how she knew which car was mine but I suppose she could have asked someone or seen me packing away some of my gear earlier.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked as we drove off.

"I live in Tenby," she replied so I turned right out of the car park and I headed off in that direction.

The first few miles we both were silent then she half turned towards me.

"You know you look a lot like my granddad," she stated.

I wasn't sure how to take that so I didn't say anything.

"Yeah, a lot like him," she repeated.

"Oh," I uttered, still unsure where all this was heading.

"He died last year," she added.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I glanced at her and I could see that there was a small tear on her tanned cheek.

"Yeah, I miss him like crazy," she sobbed.

"I live up there," she cried and pointed, but it was already too late, for I had passed the turning. "That's ok, carry on down here. Pull in here."

I pulled in to a block of concrete garages and started to turn around to head back.

"No, don't," she said, "back up into the corner and turn off your engine."

After I had done as she requested, we sat there for a few long seconds.

"I really loved that old guy," she said and smiled at me with watery eyes.

I really couldn't believe that I was sitting next to such a beautiful girl; she was slim with a big bust, a 'C' or even a 'D' cup and great long legs encased in very tight jeans.

"You think I'm pretty?" she asked out of the blue.

"What?" I said, thinking she had caught me staring.

"Pretty, do you think I'm pretty?" she asked again.

"Sure," I nodded.

"He was always saying I was, even when I wasn't," she mused. "I remember I was so scrawny, stick like legs and no bust at all, then I started to grow."

She cupped herself to empathise her words.

"He used to say he liked his women with big tits," she said with a smile as she remembered his words.

I watched open mouthed as she quickly unbuttoned her top to expose her bursting white bra.

"I'm a 32 'D' now," she said with a touch of pride in her voice.

As for me, my voice had completely gone. Within a few seconds she had discarded her top and unclipped her bra and threw that, too, on the back seat.

"So what do you think?" she asked, straightening her shoulders and pushing her tits out towards me.

"F-fucking fantastic," I stammered.

"Granddad would have loved them, too," she said.

She reached over and took my limp hands and pulled then onto her warm firm flesh.

"Squeeze me," she said, "and I'll imagine you're my granddad."

God, but they were lovely, big and firm with youth but one day they would head south, but not yet. My cock hadn't been this hard for a long time and I would dearly love to get it out but I didn't know her agenda.

"No, don't," she said sharply as my hand left one breast and found her jean's belt.

So, instead, I dropped that hand to her firm thigh and then worked my fingers between her legs. Now with my lips and one hand working on her fine tits and my other hand between my legs. After ten or so minutes I again I moved my hand to try to undo her jean's belt her response was less sharp.

"Don't, please," she whispered, now it was almost a whimper.

A whimpered 'don't, please' was almost a yes in my book, so I pulled her belt open and unzipped her jeans far enough to get my hand inside.

"No, please," she said almost inaudible.

This 'no' was definitely a yes. I got my fingers inside her thong knickers and into her wet pussy.

"Oh, my god," she groaned as I worked my middle finger inside her.

With hands and lips on her thrusting tits and my fingers working inside her pussy, her head went back and she started to moan softly. Then her body jerked a couple of times and she was still.

I wanted to fuck her desperately now, but two things held me back. Firstly, to strip her without her help on the front seat of my car was going to be difficult, if not impossible and, secondly, I didn't have any condoms on me. Well, if I couldn't fuck her then at least I wanted to get my hardness between those tits. I moved over to her side of the car and unzipped myself.