Debby squirmed, her toes wriggling and crossing. Her cunt pulsated. The sight of the young man had sent electricity through her. She wanted to hug him, to feel his hard body against her, to slide her hands in the sweat that gleamed on his bronze, sculpted muscles. More and more the sight of males made her want to do wild things, forbidden things. Suddenly, she found herself wondering what the biker's cock looked like. Although she'd once glimpsed the cocks of some young boys skinny dipping in the creek near Roxanne's farm, she'd never seen a fully developed teenage or adult cock. Were men's cocks really as big as Roxanne claimed they were?

To Debby's shock, the biker suddenly reappeared over the hill, heading back in her direction, and in seconds he'd glided to a stop at the side of the road just below her swing. She could hardly meet his eyes with her own. She felt herself blushing. She hoped he couldn't read the embarrassing thoughts that were still sliding through her mind.

"Could I trouble you for a fill up?" The biker pulled the plastic water bottle off its holder on the frame of his bike and held it out. "I'm all out, and it's a hot day."

"You want water?" Debby managed to say.

"You got it," the biker said. He glanced up toward the house. "That is, if your parents don't mind sparing me some."

"My parents are at church," Debby said.

"You home baby-sitting or something?"

"I'm home alone," Debby said.

The biker's face brightened.

"My name's Mike," he said. "Now, how about that water?"

Somehow, as if by magic, Debby suddenly found herself in the kitchen with Mike. She'd gone into a sort of trance as he'd swung his muscular leg over the bike and dismounted, and suddenly she was filling up his water bottle at the kitchen sink as he stood close enough behind her for her to smell his sweat.