He was looking good, clad in his usual sleek chic black jeans and turtleneck. He'd let his stubble grow into a casual yet carefully controlled shadow,...and was sporting black suede shoes with silver laces. A bag with a subtle designer logo by his side probably contained his laptop. Emma reflected that, in any other decade, he'd have had to be an accountant, or perhaps a lawyer. But this was the nineties, and the rich were switched on. Dave was a web designer, a splicer of hot graphics and cool. Even though he’d dreamed about something like this happening, he never, ever, in his wildest dreams, thought it actually would. Especially not with Aunt Karen! Sensations, the likes of which he’d never imagined were possible, roared through him body like a hurricane. His aunt groaned softly while her tongue lashed his lips and slid between them. Tommy met the woman’s invading tongue with his, and their oral digits dueled. He’d French-kissed one or two girls before, but that didn’t feel the way. More

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