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We’d cut church—something that was unheard of. But where?I wandered to my daughter’s room, a place of mystery where I seldom entered. It was as neat and tidy as she had been raised to keep it. Her bed was made, her clothes were hung. The drawers of her bureau were closed. On her walls were a few pictures. A reproduction of Dürer’s Praying Hands with her nighttime prayer printed on it. ‘Now I lay me down to sleep…’ A school pennant she’d received with her welcome packet to St. Joe Valley Junior High. Photos of the family, one I’d taken from the air of our home and airstrip, and one of the party she’d attended last spring.There was something about that photo. Twenty or so children lined up in rows, almost like a school picture in its formality. I was quick to pick out Cassie and realize how much she had changed this year. Beside her stood Brian Frost. I picked up the picture to look more closely. They were holding hands!This was, perhaps, more serious than I thought. The photo was in a. She was eighteen, and she was tall, with a slim figure and long shapely legs. She had long blonde hair and deep blue eyes in a very pretty face. She was still in school uniform, and wore a dark blazer and short skirt, and a white shirt. I'd been lusting after her, of course, but i couldn't make any sort of move, because she was so young. I'd often wondered what her body was like, and had fantasies about her giving me oral sex.When she had shut the door she turned and flung her arms around my neck. She kissed me on the cheek and said, "I've passed. I've got through all of them."I put my arms around her and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Well done. I bet your Mum and Dad are pleased." They will be when they get back. They've gone visiting Gran for the weekend. They won't be back till Sunday night."We went into the front room and Sarah poured me a glass of wine. We settled on the sofa and chatted for a while, about her results and how pleased she was. She gradually relaxed more and.
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