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The prize was for two and of course she'd take her boyfriend, that arsehole Roger.But then, instead of having three weeks on his own, she'd asked her old friend emma to come and stay to look after him! At the age of eighteen, he didn't need a bloody babysitter! And who the hell was this emma? He could barely remember her because she'd moved to Dubai with her family five years ago and Mum had stayed in touch with her by mail so he'd not seen her since.Ironically, he did have some vague memories of emma babysitting him when he was a child, after his father had left them. Apparently she'd been a neighbour and got close to his mum despite their age difference; she was probably only five or so years older than him.She was in the process of moving back to the UK having divorced her husband and it suited her to have a place to stay for a few weeks and, of course, it suited his mum to curtail any freedom he might have had while she was gone.It's not like he would have had lots of wild. Susan slowly licked her lips. “I” they stammered in unison, laughing nervously. Again “I”, together… more laughter and they settled down. Susan spoke first. “I don’t know where this is going,” she whispered. “But where ever it is, I want to go there.” “So do I,” Dalia replied and she felt her nipple straining against the silk. Susans’ fingers toyed with the buttons of her top and began releasing them, one at a time slowly moving down. Her legs uncrossed and Dalia glimpsed a flash of copper bronze thigh. Susans’ breasts stood firm as she allowed the top to fall open, letting it hang momentarily on her hardened nipples. Susan kicked her shoes to the side and rose to her feet, the skirt sliding down to pool at her ankles. The golden bronze of her skin extended to her mound and Dalia couldn’t keep her eyes from it. Slowly Susans’ fingers brushed between her legs and she sank back down into the chair. One leg flung carelessly over the arm. The fingers of her left hand caressed her mound.
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