The pay was good and the family sounded nice enough over the phone Isabel was thrilled as she drove her little red Honda over to the family's home the following day. A family on the far side of town- Drew and Sarah Phillips-needed a nanny three nights a week for their one-year-old son. Still, worried by the scarcity of her hours and the looming excitement of the class trip, one Tuesday afternoon Isabel left a flier on the community corkboard: To save for college and raise money for an upcoming class to New York City, Isabel worked a few afternoons a week at Clare's Greenhouse, selling flowers and potted plants to the residents of Riverview Park. She was perfection, a cotton candy and rose petal dream. There wasn't a soul in town who didn't adore her. She was also, implausibly enough, an absolute sweetheart. Isabel's ass jutted out behind her like a shelf you could balance a glass of water on the top of those round, taut cheeks without spilling a drop. From the back it was spectacular enough: firm, tight, and perfectly curved, but from the side. She had perky little tits topped with stiff, rosy nipples and what was quite possibly the most magnificent ass in the world. She had soft, sun-tanned skin, a sprinkling of nutmeg-colored freckles across her half-teardrop nose, and a smile like sunshine. She had full strawberry lips like a lush pink heart and luminous navy eyes full of whispered promises. Eighteen-year-old Isabel Rose was a five-foot-one, ninety-pound, golden-haired angel.