She had thought of him as a valuable employee – and nothing more than that. Now, as he stood there with the sun setting behind him, Linda saw him in a new light. She ran her gaze over his broad shoulders, his powerful chest, that handsome, tanned face, then down to his crotch. It was too dark to see anything. But, to her embarrassment, Linda realized she was wondering about his cock. Was his prick long, short, thick, skinny? Except in books she'd managed to sneak into the house, the woman had never seen a man's prick.

"Ma'am?"

"Uh… well, I'm not sure," she said, finding herself a little confused at the thought. What would it be like to be in a man's arms – this man's arms? She had all those erotic fantasies, those terrible, wonderful dreams of men holding and touching her. But in these dreams men never had faces, never seemed to materialize completely. Here was someone very real indeed boldly asking for a date. "I… I think I'd enjoy going, though. It sounds like fun."

Hank smiled, nodding his head rapidly. "Sounds good, ma'am. I'll be around here at seven, then, pick you up."

"Sounds good, Hank. Good night," she said, feeling herself growing a little breathless. Again she found her gaze sweeping over his body, settling on the spot between his legs where his prick was. A rush of chilly heat raced through Linda's cunt. Damn, what was she doing? Was she throwing herself right into the lion's den by accepting that date? Of course she could always break it. This was Tuesday evening. The dance was at least two days away.

"Good night, ma'am."

Linda sighed once more, turned, and went back into the empty house. Just one week ago her aunt had had a mild stroke – nothing serious, but bad enough to require her to be hospitalized for at least several weeks. That had left Linda alone to run the business, having to extend her leave of absence, and making her feel terribly alone and vulnerable. The men had been wonderful in helping her out. But still she felt as if her world here were about to explode at any second. And the explosion wasn't only her worry about her business sense. Aunt Jane had been her walls of protection against herself, that other self twisting and screaming inside her, trying to escape and take over. With the older woman gone there was nothing external to prevent her from… doing what?