She knew just how far to bend forward so a guy could see all the way to her pink nipples. She always went home with a wet crotch after teasing some young waiter or busboy as he fussed over her table. The art in Eileen's lechery was that she always did her baiting very subtly. The guys never knew, unless they were lucky enough to be invited to her cottage, whether she invited their appraisal or not. She loved the red flush that came into a guy's cheek when she caught him looking at her. That touch of naivete, that reluctant eagerness was what made guys so much more appealing to the schoolteacher.

Eileen was an aggressive woman, and she usually found herself in some kind of power confrontation.

With a younger man, there was never any doubt about who was in charge. That was the way Eileen liked it. She liked to be in total control of her sex life, from first seduction to the details of who put what where and did what to whom. She sat across the table from him and watched Randy devour the lunch she had made for him. She had gone to a lot of trouble to prepare enchiladas and guacamole and refried beans, the kinds of things she was sure a teen would like. For the dark-haired schoolteacher, it was in itself a part of the seduction to watch a teen relish the food she had prepared for him with loving attention.

As Randy helped himself to seconds of the chicken enchiladas, she began to imagine how he would react when he discovered her lewd designs on his young body. Their reactions were always much the same: awe, surprise, excitement, touched with just the right dash of fear. Eileen loved the tender lust with which a teen yielded himself into her hands and waited eagerly for her hungry assault.

"I think I made something you like," she kidded him. He had a fine appetite. That was a good sign!