What she didn't add was that the best moment had all been spent with illicit lovers, after hours. She was sure the rafters would ring with her cries fix months after she was gone. The thought pleased her. She was leaving her mark, like a canny dog staking out its territory.

When she had given the others a ten minutes' safety time to be sure they were gone, she opened the heavy oak front door. Rick stole quickly inside and leaned on the door to close it. His lips bore down on Cathy's. Though she was close to ten years older than the boy, he was already a head taller. Rick was a basketball hero. He had a fan club of eager teeny-boppers at school, ready to spread their thighs for him. But he liked Miss Coke best.

She was no girl. She was a full-blooded, lusty woman. No female he had ever known could draw the responses from his cock that she could.

The teen-ager held the curvy brunette against him. His hands roamed over her smooth back, taut waist and round tight buttocks. His penis was already hard as a rock, straining against her belly through their clothes. He had been ready for her ever since she handed him her not.

"Oh, Miss Coke, you feel so damned good! I want to stuff my cock into that hot hole of yours right now!"

Though she had told him right away to call her "Cathy", Rick had insisted on remaining formal. Now it pleased her – that extra little touch of perversion that accented the difference in their ages. Not that she felt like a cradle-robber. There was nothing childlike about the hard arms that pulled her close, the lips that pressed savagely against hers. And the cock that throbbed like a live cobra against her stomach was as male as anything she had ever come across.