Chapter 8

"Now we'll be back between eleven and eleven-thirty," Helen Spangler told the baby sitter. "You have our cell phone number and Katy's. She's at the library studying for an exam and won't be home until late, but if you can't reach us, by all means call her."

"Yes, Mrs. Spangler," smiled Angela Burton, the seventeen year old high school senior who had baby-sat with Phillipe when he was younger. "But don't worry, everything will be fine."

"I'm sure it will be," smiled the mother as she and Glen opened the front door and stepped onto the front porch. Phillipe was in his room, still not talking to his parents since the discipline was administered.

"Good night. Have a good time," said Angela, closing the door. She turned to find Phillipe staring at her from the stairs.

"My you've grown since I saw you last," she smiled.

"And so have you," he replied, his eyes giving her a self confident once over. Angela actually felt self conscious about the short skirt she wore and immediately walked to stand behind a chair where her long slender, tanned legs were not in view.

"Uh, what would you like to do? TV, computer games or, I remember you liked to read... a lot!"

"I still do, but tonight I thought since it's been a while, we might catch up, you know, get to know each other again."

Angela found herself instantly uncomfortable in Phillipe's presence. Even before he had had an air of self confidence that she found a bit unnerving, but the look in his eye now was unlike before. He almost had the look of a predator, sizing up its prey.

"Uh... well... okay," she replied, unable to find a reasonable excuse not to comply with the boy's wishes.

She sat on the end of the couch and actually found herself backing away a bit as he sat, not on the other end, but close to her, his eyes, self assured as they found hers. She looked away, unable to meet his intense gaze.

"You're a senior this year," he observed.

"Uh, yes. Graduation isn't too far away," she smiled, but it was weak and again she could not hold his eyes.

He knew the pheromone was beginning to work, could she her cheeks redden as her body temperature soared. He had developed a new concoction, much more potent and faster acting than that he had used with Taylor and Amber.

"I guess it won't be long until the prom."

Angela's breathing rate had increased, her body was already showing the telltale signs of sexual arousal.

"Yes... the twenty-seventh."

"Got a date?"

"Are you asking?" she laughed, but the humor fell through as tiny beads of perspiration began to appear on her forehead.

"I bet a beautiful girl like you has been asked a lot."

The compliment, as calculated, increased her arousal as well.

"I... Bobby Layton... do you know Bobby? He's... well, he's asked me to marry him as soon as graduation is over."

"And have you accepted?"

It was beginning to become difficult for Angela to concentrate. Phillipe had already surreptitiously moved a bit closer and the aphrodisiac was becoming overpowering.

"I... yes. We... haven't set a date yet, but probably sometime in June."

"I bet you're looking forward to that."

"Hmmmmm," she agreed.

"I'm sure Bobby is. After all what guy wouldn't want to hold you," he moved closer while her pulse quickened. "With a face and body like yours, you're going to give him a great deal of pleasure."

Normally the remark would have received a curt reply, but in her aroused state the girl found Phillipe's observation strangely exciting.

"Do you think I have a nice body?" she found herself saying.

"From what I can see, I'd say you've got a body built for pleasure."

Again the impertinent comment did not draw a slap or rebuke but only incited the girl further.

"What part of my body do you like best?" she asked, her mind in a haze of chemical induced sensuality.

"I always thought you had nice breasts."

"Really?"

"Yes, but of course I never got to really see them."

"Would you like... ? No, wait... Bobby wouldn't like..."

"But Bobby isn't here, is he? There are just the two of us. So if you'd like to show me your breasts, no one will ever know."

"... Sure?" she asked, her heart racing.

"I'll never tell," he smiled.

"Well, maybe just a peek," she laughed dumbly, her mind fogged, her emotions, especially those of an erotic nature, quickly gaining control.

The buttons of the blouse came undone slowly one at a time. At last she dropped the blouse from her shoulders and slid it off onto the floor.

"Still can't see them," he said smiling, so her hands went behind her, unclasping the bra which came loose. She held it in place, an errant pang of conscience pricking her consciousness before dying away.

"I shouldn't..." was all she could manage.

"You want to show them to me. Don't you Angela?"

"I... yes," she replied, letting the bra drop and revealing her not yet mature, but nicely developing breasts, small dark aureoles surrounding the normally small but now swollen nipples.

"Nice, Angela, very nice. I bet you'd like me to touch them wouldn't you?"

"I... you shouldn't... I..." she stammered, trying to regain some semblance of control, yet could not. Her breathing was coming in gasps now, perspiration forming on her fevered brow. She was totally confused, knowing she was older, that she should be the one in command of the situation, yet her hormones were now in overdrive and there was little, if anything, she could do.

"Want it don't you Angela?" he asked.

"I... can't... I'm engaged.