"No?" Martha turned to the handsome boy as he guided the car safely into her driveway. "How do you like to be when you're not being tough?" All during the ride, Martha's emotions had been wavering from one extreme to another. She blushed with shame when she remembered the erotic daydreams she had been entertaining about the boy the other day. She blushed with pleasure when she found him looking at her with those tender eyes that told her he really saw her and he liked what he saw.

"A guy's got to know how to be tender too. No woman wants a guy who's always being tough."

She thought how wise he was, and how handsome. She wished her husband might listen to this boy sometime. Maybe he would learn something. "Why don't you come in for a minute, Steve? The least I can do is give you some pie and milk."

"Sounds good to me." Steve walked behind her into the house. Her dress was full and flowed loosely over her hips. But still he could detect the taut firm undulations of her ass-cheeks as she walked. Every now and then the dress would grip her tight and Steve's cock would lurch. He sensed about the woman that she kept a lot of herself buried deep inside. She was like a locked box of treasures. He wanted to find the key to unlock the box. He was sure he would be very pleased with what he found inside.

Steve had decided to make Mrs. Roy his project. He wanted to do something to make the sad older woman happy. And he wanted to satisfy his own prurient curiosity… not to mention the growing bulge in his pants. Steve knew already how grateful a lonely woman could be.

She brought him his pie and milk. She sipped on a cold glass of wine while he ate. "Do you wear your glasses most of the time, Mrs. Roy?" he asked.

She raised her hand to the frames and smiled sheepishly. "Most of the time. I just can't get used to contact lenses."

"You must have been wearing them the other day when I saw you at the school. You sure have pretty eyes, Mrs. Roy. You can't see them so good when you're wearing your glasses."