Amanda had the most infectious smile I’d seen on a girl. 

Her smile thrust dimples into each cheek and tweaked the tip of her nose to one side. 

Her teeth seemed to be smiling, too, as the delightful curve of her bite pulled into view, one side teasing out slightly ahead of the other.

When Amanda smiled, the sides of her chin drew up towards her ears. Now, in itself, that’s not unusual, but it had a magical effect because Amanda tucked her black, straight locks behind those little ears. Her smile made them dance, so it looked as though the very hair on her head was smiling.

And all of that, as you may have noticed, is before I’ve begun to describe her eyes. 

Amanda’s smiling cheeks curved like two little moons, pushing on her lower eyelids to throw light back into her eyes so they’d flash with a lustre.

As she smiled, the corners of her long eyelashes pranced upwards, inviting highlights to dance across the rich, deep-green pools of her irises as they tangoed with the darkness of her pupils. 

Amanda’s sleek eyebrows looked entirely natural, yet were perfectly defined. They rose in pleasing symmetry, then broke, falling a little at the sides towards her ears. When Amanda smiled, the soft peaks of her eyebrows would jink up in a quick bound of joy that would make you feel, suddenly, light as a bubble.

Now, individually, any of those things are lovely to picture in your mind. But imagine each element working together in a perfectly choreographed little ballet of pure, joyous mischief. 

That was Amanda’s smile.

I knew to call her Amanda because of her name badge. I assumed it wasn’t some pseudonym she was using to create a false familiarity and sell more souvenirs to the tourists that flocked past her tiny glass-fronted shop. That didn’t seem to be her way, somehow.

Having her name was helpful since I needed some power. Not power over her, you’ll understand; I was after electrical power to run photographic lights. Since the only power in that little shopping arcade was inside the tiny shops, I would have to charm my way into getting some.

Even if I’d not needed her power, Amanda’s smile would have pulled the charm out of me like iron filings rushing towards a magnet. Being charming to Amanda wasn’t simply effortless; you’d have to fight all of your impulses NOT to be charming to her.

‘Hi, Amanda?’ I phrased that as a question to avoid sounding too presumptuous, not that I waited for an answer. ‘I’m wondering if I might steal something from you?’ Then I gave a comedy flick of my eyebrows, conspiratorially, that made Amanda giggle just a little.

‘If you steal from me, I might just have to lock you in my dungeon.’ Amanda gave a comedy point to an imaginary dark basement below her.

‘Well, since you put it like that, Amanda, I am going to HAVE to steal from you!’ I leaned towards her, holding up the plug of my extension lead. ‘I want to steal your power!’

Amanda smelled of sweet summer strawberries.

She leaned a little closer to me, suddenly looking comedy serious. ‘If you want to steal power from me, you will have to do it while I’m not looking!’ And with that, Amanda put on a large pair of comedy sunglasses from her display, then pretended to look the other way, just a little.

I crept to the side of the shop counter like I was a comedy cat burglar making high steps to lighten my footprints. Then I reached behind the counter to plug my extension lead into a socket I could see there. I turned and made my comedy escape, rubbing my hands together in comedy glee. Amanda laughed, and I gave her a comedy ‘shush’ with a finger to my lips.

I doubled back, leaning in to steal more of Amanda’s sweet strawberry scent and proffering a hand. ‘I’m Sam, by the way.’

‘Well, Sam, you ought to be a little more street savvy. This criminal career of yours won’t last long if you carelessly leave your name at crime scenes.’ Amanda shook my hand with a soft squeeze and gave me another of her electrifying smiles, raising her eyebrows in comedy disapproval at my criminal ineptitude. And with that, I set about my work with a smile of my own.

I worked away all day, exchanging the odd teasing smile with Amanda as I passed her unit. But I was mainly busy elsewhere, and she had a steady stream of customers to satisfy.

As the arcade closed and the shops began to lock up, I packed away the lights, pulled up the gaffer tape, and rolled up the extension lead back towards Amanda’s shop. As Amanda came into view, I did another little comedy turn, reeling in the extension lead like I was fighting to reel in a giant fish.

‘Now!’ I announced boldly, as Amanda threw me a quizzical comedy glance, ‘I’m going to try to steal from you again, Amanda. I don’t suppose I can steal you away for a drink?’

Amanda threw me a fierce comedy frown. ‘No way! No man can steal me away from my end-of-month stock take!’

I gave Amanda a comedy sad face, hoping it disguised my dejection.

‘Cheer up, Al Capone, as punishment for your heinous crimes, you are sentenced to helping me do that stock take. And some hard wine drinking while you’re at it.’ Amanda gave a comedy strike of her judge’s gavel.

‘Well, a guilty man must serve his time.’ I shrugged, with a comedy holding out of my hands, waiting to be cuffed and taken down.

Amanda grabbed my shirt collar in a comedy police officer kind of fashion and led me through a tiny door at the back of her tiny shop.

There was a tiny high counter in the tiny stock room with a tiny inset sink and a tiny fridge beneath. Amanda pulled out a bottle of wine and poured two glasses. Well, she poured two disposable plastic cups. Then she raised a comedy toast: ‘To the condemned man!’

‘I’m innocent. I’ve bin stitched up guv, ‘n no mistake!’ I protested in a poor attempt at a comedy East-London accent.

Amanda pinched my chin and gave my head a comedy shake from side to side. ‘That’s what they all say.’ Then she stood on her toes and planted a kiss smack on my lips.

‘See!’ I appealed, in comedy disgust, ‘she planted it on me!’

I licked my lips to taste the lip gloss I’d stolen from hers.  ‘Mmm… I’ve stolen some of your strawberries. Delicious!’

‘I can’t take my eyes off you for a moment!’ Amanda was giving me a comedy look of disapproval once more.

The tiny stock take of the tiny stock room didn’t last long. However, it took a tiny bit longer than it ought to have done. In such a tiny stock room, we kept rubbing into one another. Amanda’s prominent breasts and peachy bottom made that inevitable. And my raging erection didn’t help. 

‘You seem to have stolen a truncheon, you good-for-nothing wastrel!’ Amanda scolded with a comedy wag of her finger. ‘Every time I feel that brushing against me through your trousers, I’ll sentence you to one minute’s hard kissing.’

As you might imagine, I became a repeat offender.

But we finished that stock take, not that I recall how.

‘I suppose now you’ve used ‘n abused me with yer ‘ard labour, yer gonna turn me out on the streets to die!’ I delivered my melodramatic complaint in that comedy East-End accent once more.

‘I’m not finished with you, sunshine. I sentence you to help me find the bottom of my bottle of wine.’ 

‘I never could refuse an order to help a girl find her bottom!’

Amanda’s shoulders jigged as she flashed me a smile that broke into a short giggle.

‘I can’t believe I got away with such a criminally bad joke.’ I gave a comedy twist to my invisible evil moustache.

‘That does it!’ declared Amanda in comedy desperation. ‘I sentence to go down into my dungeon.’

‘Not the dungeon!’ I pleaded in comedy despair. ‘Anything but the dungeon!’

Amanda’s white blouse was sleek, and she wore a houndstooth skirt that looked almost as though it were shrink-wrapped onto her voluptuous hips as it curved up into a tight waistband. She fixed my gaze with a comedy stern look and, ably assisted by the miracle of Lycra, hitched that skirt up to her hips. Throwing her arms behind her, she hoicked herself onto the edge of the tiny high counter in the tiny stockroom. Then, with a comedy flourish, she put a hand firmly on my head. 

‘You’re going down.’

Accepting my fate, I let her push my head between her legs as she clamped her thighs around my ears. I started to suck softly at the lips of her pussy through her tiny cotton panties, trying to make out the pattern on them, but they were so close to my eyes that it was difficult for me to pull them into focus.

‘Strawberries!’ I announced victoriously, coming up for some air. ‘You’ve little strawberries on your panties too.’

‘You’re nowhere near due for release yet!’ Amanda leant back and pulled down her tiny cotton strawberry-patterned panties, easing them over her tiny, shiny court shoes. Firmly, she sent me back down to the dungeon.

Her pussy was shaven smooth, and as my lips met hers, her juices mixed with the stolen strawberry lip gloss to fill my every breath with the heady scent of Amanda’s sweet strawberry sexiness. 

Her legs spread wide, and I made my plea for release by writing the word INNOCENT across her soft labia, one letter at a time, with the tip of my tongue. I don’t imagine Amanda understood my protestations, but the shifting patterns drove her wild with pleasure. 

‘JESUS!’

I paused, putting on an American deep-South comedy accent. ‘You know, I sure do hate it when you call out another man’s name when we makin’ love!’

Amanda let out a giggling groan. I wrote out a couple more letters of my plea before coming up for air again.

‘I mean happn’ ma momma did wanna call me Jesus, but ma daddy, he wouldn’ have it. Priests can be mighty picky like that.’

Amanda laughed like she was going to burst. She regained composure before pulling me to her face and giving me a comedy glare. Without shifting her eyes, Amanda unbuttoned my shirt, then her blouse, and pulled down her bra so that her pert breasts were on glorious display. She pushed my head into her cleavage, and I turned to one side to tease my tongue around one of her dark nipples. After a few licks, she twisted my head to the other side.

‘Can’t have my other girl getting jealous.’ Amanda was starting to sound woozy.

It wasn’t long before I was consigned to the dungeon once more to finish my sentence. I protested my innocence with increasing vigour, and eventually, Amanda screamed in ecstatic release. Hers, not mine, you’ll understand.

‘All that time, and I’m not yet a free man?!’ I was whispering now.

‘There is still the substantial matter of that stolen truncheon to deal with.’ Amanda was reaching down to unzip my trousers. 

She slid off the tiny high counter and pulled the waistband of my boxer shorts down beneath my balls. She held that truncheon firmly as she teased at my balls with her tongue before licking her way to the top of my cock, taking it deep into her mouth and looking straight up at me. Holding my gaze, she pulled her mouth off my cock while keeping her fingers firmly around the base.

‘It’s my legal duty to relieve you of this.’ 

Much as I love them, I don’t come easily from blow jobs, but I had to fight off an orgasm that day. I eased Amanda’s head off my cock, and she started to kiss up my stomach and across my chest.

‘You’re further charged with concealing a hairy chest!’

‘Yes, AND I still have the truncheon. Maybe you should try to secure it in that dungeon?’

Amanda locked the strawberry lips of her mouth onto the strawberry lips of mine. Leaning back on the tiny high counter, I raised her with assistance from a stack of boxes. She wrapped around me, easing down until the strawberry lips of her pussy spread their strawberry scent all over my cock. 

We slid together with exquisite ease; strawberry lips explored strawberry lips. Strawberry tongue explored strawberry tongue. Strawberry cock explored strawberry pussy. Well, I moved as much as possible, given I was holding her up, but she was free to writhe how she chose. And how she writhed.

Amanda’s strawberry lip-gloss was a magic potion that heightened our every sensual move and filled the air around us with its sweetness.

She was rapidly riding my cock now, and I could feel the depths of her sweet, sticky pussy purring with intensifying pleasure. Being close to the edge, I lifted Amanda down gently. She ran her strawberry lips down through my hairy chest and stomach, sliding them over my cock. She looked up to entrap my eyes once more. Her strawberry tongue and soft mouth worked along my cock, demanding its cream. I came in sweet shudders as Amanda gulped down every drop.

With a comedy swagger of her forefinger, Amanda wiped the corners of her mouth before sliding that finger through her glossy lips and sucking on it intensely for a moment. ‘Mmm, Sammy Strawberry, that was truly scrumptious.’

We stood in the shadows of the street as she secured the arcade shutters with a rasp that rudely shook the still night air. I offered Amanda a lift home, but she insisted she’d be fine. I gave her a comedy dejected look. ‘I won’t be here to steal your power tomorrow!’

Amanda pinched my chin once more and shook my head a little before we locked in one last soft, searching kiss.

‘Don’t you worry, I’m minded to launch a manhunt for you. I’ll find your lair. And when you’re least expecting it, I’ll come and take my power right back.’

Then, that sweet, sassy strawberry girl shot me another of her smiles.