Shanda gently tucked the baby into his crib and then looked at her watch. In about thirty more minutes, Mr. and Mrs. Warner would be home. Mrs. Warner would pay her, and Mr. Warner would drive her home.
Shanda felt her panties grow damp at the thought of Mr. Warner. He was so good-looking, with dark brown hair, green eyes, and a terrific body. He'd asked her on the way to her house before to call him Jack, but she hadn't done it yet. He'd complimented her, telling her how pretty she was, with her long blond hair and big blue eyes.
Shanda knew she had a nice body. She weighed 115 pounds, and had 36D tits. She was just about to graduate high school, having turned eighteen just two weeks ago.
Just then, the Warners walked into the door. They were arguing.
"You didn't have to flirt with Michael all night! He's my partner, not one of your conquests!" Mr. Warner was saying.
"Shut up, Jack. At least I wasn't hanging all over him like you were doing with that damned slut secretary of yours -- what's her name, Annie?"
Then they noticed Shanda, whose mouth was hanging open. "Sorry, Shanda," said Mrs. Warner, then she reached into her clutch purse and handed Shanda two twenty dollar bills. "Thanks for to-night," she said and headed upstairs.
Shanda looked at Mr. Warner. "I guess you need a ride home? Come on."
In the car, Mr. Warner sighed. "Sorry about the scene, Shanda. Sometimes when it's an office party, we get a little drunk."
"There's no need to explain, Mr. Warner."
"Shanda, have I ever told you what a great fucking body you have?"
He's drunk, Shanda told herself. Thank him.
"Thank you, sir."
"Jack."
