Bu as he walked quickly home, he had other ideas he wanted to try with her. Cindy, he felt, would put up a fight. She probably wouldn't believe him if he told her what he had seen. But Howie didn't care, because he knew what to do now.

He entered his house quietly, not wanting to wake Cindy up if she was still asleep as she had been when he sneaked out.

Cindy was still asleep.

But she wasn't on the couch anymore. She was on the floor, with a throw pillow beneath her head. But she was still asleep.

He looked down at the lovely girl. Her dark blonde hair fanned about her face. Her nose was small, with the tip slightly turned up cute.

Her lips were full and moist, so ripe she didn't have to wear lipstick unless she wanted. He looked at her tits, watching them rise and fall beneath the frilly white blouse, wondering how her tits would look naked. They were smaller than his mother's, he could see that.

But what drew his attention more than anything else was her sleeping posture.

Cindy lay between the couch and the heavy coffee table. One leg rested on the cushions of the couch, propped there. She had kicked her shoes off, and her legs were parted. Her pleated skirt was halfway up her thighs, and when he stepped back a bit and leaned over, he saw the lacy crotch of her panties. Howie's cock started to swell again as he peered beneath her skirt. Cindy's legs were long, very smooth and slender.

Leaving the sleeping Cindy reluctantly, he went to the kitchen and searched until he found some old clothesline. There was enough of it for his purpose. He didn't know how much time he had before his mother came home, but Howie didn't give a shit. If she came home and found Cindy all tied up, what the fuck could she say? He would just confront his mother with what he knew, and she couldn't say shit to him.