Go talk to them

The two girls laugh happily, both clearly pleased at your decision and in general high spirits, as you join them at their table. They're both sitting on the same side of the wooden picnic style table, so you you sit opposite them, in the middle of the bench on your side, so you have the cute, grinning, round faced gal sitting across to your left, and the slim, dark, more exotic lovely on the right, staring at you in unabashed appraisal, and in a manner you can't help but find a little critical.

"Okay, you win, he was brave enough to come sit with us," she says in an educated drawl, clearly speaking to her friend but not taking her eyes off of yours, "I *suppose* we can give him a chance..."

Not wanting to let her intimidate you - the girls have to be several years younger than you, at the least - you stare back at her with a grin, and do some appraising of your own. She's definitely Indian, or maybe Pakistani, in origin - gorgeous smooth brown skin, dark dark eyes, and long, straight, glossy black hair that seems to flow all the way down her back. Making an attempt to judge her as critically as she seems to have you, you decide that she would be strikingly - stunningly - attractive if it wasn't for her overlarge nose, which dominates the rest of her face.

The shorter girl, apparently feeling left out, reaches across the table and grabs your hand and you break eye contact with the darker girl and turn your attention to her apparently friendlier friend - not as immediately striking, but definitely a cutie, just shy of plump and with curves to spare, pale freckled skin with rose-blossom cheeks, with masses of curly dark blonde hair and mischievous pale blue eyes. Her friend didn't seem to be wearing much make up, but you don't think this girl is wearing any at all - she's got an all natural, girl-next-door sexiness to her. Giving you a wicked little grin that displays an almost unnerving amount of tiny white teeth, she introduces herself as Rachel.

"And this stuck up bitch," she adds with a playful sidelong glance at the other girl, "is Dharma."

"It's not stuck up to have standards," the other girl - Dharma - replies, making Rachel burst out laughing.

Tension broken, you tell them your name and you fall into chatting - just small talk, but you have the definite feeling that the girls are sizing you up for something and, as a journalist, you try to get a feel for them yourself. Both are dressed in low key, casual clothing - battered jeans and t-shirts, both seemingly braless beneath them, but that seems to be just your standard university student attire these days. From their accents, they're both from well to do backgrounds, though the perky Rachel is a lot more casual than the somewhat imperious Dharma - and as the conversation continues, you decide that they both seem a little drunk.

They tell you that they are students at the tiny college near the town, and they live with another girl in a rented house here, and then ask you what you're doing in town. You're about to answer, then start as Dharma lays a hand on your knee and begins to slowly rub your thigh under the table, staring impassively into your eyes as she does so. You swallow hard and make a second attempt to reply, an innocently grinning Rachel begins to rub her foot up and down your leg.

The teasing minxes watch you patiently as you try to ignore the distraction and cautiously explain to them that you're a journalist, and had were investigating some men going missing near the town, unsure how much of what you know you should let on about. The girls seem pleased to hear your explanation though. Rachel laughs and Dharma smirks - despite yourself, you're beginning to find her haughtiness kind of sexy - and the two girls share an obviously meaningful glance that apparently decides *something*, and then Rachel leans close to you and says that if you come back with them to their house, maybe they could let you know a little about what goes on in the village - it's a "quiet little town" she says, but they have their own ways of having fun here.

Dharma leans forward too, shoulder to shoulder with her friend, and beneath the table her hand slides confidently up your thigh to cup your crotch, squeezing gently but firmly as she whispers - "We'll show you what people around here do in their spare time... if you think you can handle it."