Vicky Morris had always considered herself sort of a prude when it comes to the opposite sex. She was twenty-one years old but had never had an official boyfriend. Well, there were the boys she made out and petted heavily with—and sometimes went to bed with—in parties where she had too much to drink and stuff, but she didn’t think those counted. All those boys were simply after her body, which she had to admit was pretty spectacular for a prude.
She was of medium height, not too tall that boys would feel like midgets next to her but not too short either that boys would feel like they were with a midget next to her. Her hair ran past her shoulders and up to her elbows. She had dark-brown hair, something she used to consider a blessing because it made her stand out among a sea of blondes in high school. Now that she was in college, though, her hair had become sort of like a curse. There were too many brunettes at the college she attended. She felt like she looked like everyone else, and that wasn’t a good thing for someone who was intent on snagging a boy and a college romance at that. She had thought about dyeing her hair blonde but thought against it. She just didn’t have enough guts.
Vicky’s hair may be plain, but her body was far from plain. She was built like an hourglass: shoulders and hips in matching width, waist as curvy and tiny as a waist can be, boobs not too big like Leslie Taint’s—the campus crush—but upright and perky enough to attract the needed male attention. Her tush was firm and toned, but in terms of size, it was an ordinary-looking tush.
She knew she had the looks. Her friends had been telling her so. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe them. She knew enough when she looked in the mirror that she was more attractive than most girls she saw. Her beauty wasn’t the type that would make heads turn. Her beauty was the type that would make one take a second look and then another before the looker would realize they were looking at something spectacular. Vicky wore glasses, something she figured concealed her looks some more. She didn’t mind, though. She had the worst eyesight, and contact lenses irritated her. It was glasses for Vicky Morris. While she thought her spectacles put a damper on her looks, the boys thought the opposite. A chick in glasses was hot for most members of the opposite sex. In the days that followed, Vicky mused her eyeglasses may have had something to do with the events that took place between her and Mr. Russell.
Mr. Ned Russell was one of her babysitting bosses, the other being Mrs. Arlene Russell, his wife. Vicky, for two months and running now, had been babysitting Sabrina Russell, the couple’s daughter and only child. Vicky and Sabrina had hit off right away, and the child looked forward to the babysitting sessions, which took place on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Mrs. Russell’s work was something that involved travel. Thus, she was always out of the house, and it was mostly Mr. Russell who took care of Sabrina. His work involved something big too—Vicky guessed it had something to do with banking—but he didn’t have to go out and travel as much as his wife. Vicky babysat on the three said days every week since Mr. Russell had to stay out late on those days. She didn’t mind since her classes at the college took place only on mornings, and she had her afternoons off. Babysitting also meant spare cash, something Vicky certainly didn’t mind.
She had been drawn to Mr. Russell the first time she had laid her eyes on him. Mr. Russell was a tall man, a towering figure to his wife’s petite feminine frame. He was the typical all-American husband portrayed in most family-related ads. His hair was blond. His eyes were blue. His skin was fair and unbelievably creamy for a man’s. His shoulders were broad, and he had an athletic air about him. His waist was trim, and his hips were slim. He didn’t have washboard abs, but his stomach was still decently flat. She wasn’t surprised. The Russells were a young family. Vicky figured husband and wife were in their late thirties, but she didn’t get to confirm this fact.
Mrs. Russell was the ideal contrast to her husband’s almost-blinding fairness. She had jet-black hair that looked startling against her plaster-white skin. Her eyes were of a dark brown; they were so dark they were almost black. Her lips were rosy pink and looked lush. While her husband had an imposing frame, Mrs. Russell looked frail enough to break. She wasn’t very short, but she was petite and gentle looking. Her shoulders were narrow and as wide as her hips. She was thin, but she wasn’t curvy. Aside from her breasts, which hinted of motherhood, she could have been someone who was fresh out of college.
Vicky didn’t think of Mrs. Russell as beautiful, but she was certainly very striking. Also, it was plain to see Mr. Russell was head-over-heels in love with his wife. They were always so sweet together, always looking out for each other and making sure the other’s needs were met first before he/she dealt with his/her own. Vicky figured Mr. Russell may have been something of a playboy back in the days when he was single and free, but he sure didn’t fit into that bill now, not with his attractive doting wife around to give him all his needs and wants.
Yes, all his needs and wants, all right, as Vicky discovered one day.
It was a typical babysitting session for Vicky. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary for her. She and Sabrina played for a bit, but Saab got tired after a while and said she wanted to take a nap. Vicky agreed of course and immediately put Saab to sleep, which was an easy feat since the child almost drifted off to Dreamland right away the second her head hit the pillow.
Saab must be so tired, Vicky thought, looking at the child tenderly. She loved Saab, greatly enjoyed her company. But with the child asleep, what on earth was she going to do the rest of the afternoon? She glanced at her wristwatch and gave a low whistle. She still had three more hours to go before Mr. Russell got home. She thought for a bit and decided to while the hours away by going online. The Russells had a desktop computer in their living room, and the Russells had given her permission to use it whenever she wished.
After making sure Saab was sound asleep and comfortable, Vicky went back down the stairs quietly and headed to the desktop computer. She thought briefly of watching some TV instead then dismissed the thought when she realized her favorite show wasn’t going to be on until about two hours later. Well, the online world it was, she decided. Besides, there were some new videos she wanted to check out on YouTube. She plugged the computer in and turned the volume down a bit as she waited for the machine to come to life. She had forgotten to bring her headphones. The Russells had a wicked speaker, but she didn’t want to wake Sabrina up from all her online racket.
The desktop came to life. Vicky glanced up, and that was when she saw the image on the screen.
She was so surprised that she froze for about a few seconds. She didn’t do anything at all. Her heart beat faster, and her hands grew clammy. She blinked and swallowed the lump of unease that was starting to grow in her throat. No such luck. The image on the screen remained the same, and so she blinked again. The image didn’t change an inch. In fact, it seemed to stare back at her with a sense of quiet defiance, as if asking her how dare she doubt the reality of what she was seeing before her eyes.