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CANDI

Che

June 2, 1998

(c)

When the tiny blonde breezed past on a yellow mountain bike, pleated pink tennis-skirt blown carelessly back against a flat girlish tummy, it became immediately clear to Max that the little tease was intentionally showing-off.

Swinging a shapely leg over center bar like a boy dismounting, she coasted to a stop and leaned the bike against a wall. That titillating show had stopped at least four men in their tracks: two young Mexican landscape gardeners on their way to lunch, a middle-age businessman dropping mail in a box and a bald-headed fat-man getting out of his car. At least ten pair of eyes followed the nymph's nicely toned curves, tanned trim legs, smoothness and graceful length emphasized by that incredibly short pink pleated skirt.

At first he thought she was a child trying to act older, a pre-pubescent playing teen. But when she turned after dropping a coin into a payphone, firm breasts, flawless face and hard sculpted figure made him ...

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