"Water, or something stronger?" Jeff asked, passing in front of her, crossing the living room into the small kitchen.
Vickie sat down on the edge of an old couch. "Just water, thank you," she said, still looking around. There were the usual things male college students have scattered about the living room – guitar, books on yoga, sex magazines poorly, "hidden" by newspapers.
"Here you go."
Vickie smiled, taking the cold glass of water. Just for a minute, then she'd get out of here and never come back.
CHAPTER TWO
"Is something wrong?"
Vickie found her hand shaking. That tickling, burning itch had become worse since she had arrived at Jeff's place. Her aunt felt oh so hot and very moist. When she moved her ass slightly on the old sofa more hot juices seeped out. This was the worst it had been ever!
"No, not really. I've got to be going," Vickie said, fighting down the waves of lust sweeping over her. If Jeff made a pass now, she wasn't sure if she could resist.
"Probably the heat. Maybe you oughtta take off a few of those clothes. Looks pretty warm to me," Jeff said, reaching down and pulling his T-shirt off before Vickie could object.
"No!" the girl cried, leaping to her feet and knocking the water glass to the floor in the process. She stared angrily at Jeff. And yet how could she be angry at him? He looked so masculine, so overpowering in that half-nude state. His big arms rippled with well-developed biceps and triceps. His lightly tanned flesh glistened with sweat and… oh, my God, that soft roll of dick-meat she'd noticed before was getting longer, getting thicker, was actually tenting the material of his white tennis shorts!