He does think I'm beautiful? she wondered. She was a little shaky on her feet. As she carried the platter to the sink, she slipped on the toss rug and fell. The platter was plastic and didn't break. But Jean felt like a fool, sprawled on the floor like a rag doll in front of the watchful eyes of the teen.

Then he was kneeling in front of her, taking her arm, asking if she was hurt. His eyes looked so soft, so concerned. Jean felt a ripple of need flow through her.

"I'm all right, Randy. Really I am. Thank you." Her voice sounded strange to her own ears. The hunger was so raw. Alcohol and lust had combined to disarm her completely of her armor against her baser instincts.

He pulled her to her feet. They stood facing one another. They were about the same height. Jean watched his expression flicker between desire and fear. Obviously, he did not know where he stood with her. But he knew… and she could see it… where he wanted to stand, or lie.

Suddenly they were kissing. Their mouths ground hungrily against one another. Though he was the lover of a skilled older woman, his kiss still conveyed his own slight awkwardness. His tongue pushed inside only a little way, until he grew so overwhelmed with his need and her closeness that he shoved it all the way to the back of her throat. Their tongues collided fiercely. Their passion took them back down onto the floor. They writhed together on the toss rug.

There was no doubt in her mind now about the hardness of his young cock. She could feel it pushing aggressively against her belly, through their clothes. The earthy pressure brought out the primitive in Jean. She wanted that cock! She wanted that hard young cock in her hand!

She scarcely realized at first that, as she crawled down to his loins to free his cock from his pants, Randy was involved in a similar project. Then, she felt the cool wash of air on her thighs, and she realized he had pulled her pants down. A rush of fear and excitement surged through her naked loins.