He was sure there were not. On a one to ten scale, Vixen was an eleven or twelve. “You know what they want.” Vixen gave him a few eyelash blinks, ...er coy look. He nodded, and then shook his head, dispelling the image of some big football player rutting between Vixen’s long legs, her red hair swishing from side to side, her wonderful breasts jumping to and fro, hell of an image. “Well,” she said, “this is kind of embarrassing, well, I mean, the boys, they don’t, I guess you’d say, they don’t. ?Sam!? Helen replied, shocked that Sam would shout about ‘jumping her bones’ from across the street. ?Sam! Please! What if the neighbours heard???Then they can come and join us. They’ll have to bring their own shepherds pie, though. I’ve only got enough for two. Oh, you mean about jumping your bones? Why should I care what they think? What, am I embarrassing you?? Sam laughed and swinging Helen into a clinch, kissed her. ?Ooops, sorry, I promised I wouldn’t do that. Seriously, Helen, come and. More

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