
The last forbidden act had been committed in Florida. There had been no excuses this time; she had clearly picked the young teenager up and seduced him, and they had been caught by a state trooper, naked in a near-orgasmic session, in the rear of her car, her hungrily throbbing cunt filled with the hardness of his young male flesh. It had been three months now without another boy, the frightening scare of wildly driving from the Southern state before she could be brought to trial having been a coldly deterring memory. She had been using her fingers, finding no other way to fulfill her sexual passions, yet masturbation hardly ever released her drives as did the beautiful filling of her hungering vagina by a throbbingly virile boy-cock…
And then out of nowhere had come Roger Trenton, tall and handsome, and his tender fourteen-year-old son, Mark. Her uncontrollable, perverse hunger had confronted her with a question agonizing consequence: was it Roger or his son whom she wanted to possess? Or both? Oh God, she would leave Logansville before she'd ruin three lives instead of only one.
Suddenly she realized that Roger was drawing closer to her and was whispering wetly into her ear. "You drive me wild," cooing softly, "God, I want to touch you, kiss you, make love to you…"
"D-don't talk like that, Roger, please…" she moaned. "It's the wine that's gone to your head." Even as she spoke, she heard her own slurred voice, and knew that she too had become slightly drunk in spite of her vow to watch herself.
