Freewheeling Barbara Toys With Boys

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He had curly blond hair, he was about ninteen years old, and the look in his eyes told Barbara that the young man had other thoughts in his mind than the eggs Benedict he was eating. Look how his tongue curls around the bacon, the woman thought. Like it could curl around my…

He stared at her. Then he smiled. A shy, young smile. What was she thinking of, anyway. How silly! Here she was a mature woman watching a teenaged young man eat his breakfast, getting damp between her legs as she did, not knowing why, narrowing her eyes in a lust filled response to his lewd smile. She hoped Annette didn't notice.

She directed her attention toward her partner, Annette. Her partner.

How foolish that sounded. Oh well.

No, Annette hadn't noticed. Good.

Barbara leaned away from her cheese omelet and glared at the thick slices of French toast buried beneath a mountain of fresh strawberries and whipped cream on Annette's breakfast plate.

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