So Jim and me are taking a shortcut through the French Quarter, that’s what they call this area with a few restaurants and boutiques and like that—it’s only about a block long—and just ahead of us is this cute girl, short, like maybe five feet, and I guess she’s about our age, maybe a year or two older, maybe even three or four but no more than twenty or twenty-one, probably, and she turns and goes up this stairway, and Jim and me stop, I don’t know why, well, I do, just to watch her, because she’s so cute, and she gets about halfway up the stairs and her dress, kind of a sweater dress, I guess, really short, barely enough to cover her butt, flies up. Man oh man there must have been some kind of updraft, you know? And the dress sort of snagged for a moment before it fell back in place, but for a second or two we had this perfect view of her bare butt. No panties. Just beautiful beautiful ass.

Except that’s not all. Her butt was red, like she’d been paddled, really red, like it couldn’t have happened more than a minute or two ago. Jim quick snapped his camera out of his pocket, but before he could take a picture or video or anything it was too late. She was gone.

We didn’t say anything for a bit, we just stared at each other. And then we looked back up those stairs, thinking, I don’t know, maybe she’d come back down. And both of us probably wishing we were brave enough to go up, see what was up there. But she didn’t come back down, so we went on our way.

But eventually Jim said like he could see her puss. I don’t think he could, it was too quick, and it would just be a blur more or less, anyway, and then he said he could see some of her girl jizz about to drip down, and I knew he was making that up, but maybe he saw it, maybe it was true. Yeah, I like to think it was true. One thing I know is true. I’m in love with her.