She went up to a loft in the loft where I supposed she had her bed and threw down a black terrycloth robe and towel. I needed to dress for my part, or...rather undress, so to speak, the rain being convenient for our little theater. She came back down in a Hello Kitty shirt, too short to cover pink cotton panties, and nothing else. "How's this, daddy?" She did a little pirouette, her voice suddenly small and insecure, and sat down on her pale beige leather couch. "Here on my lap." I didn't. I’d been deliberately staring at her friend Monica’s panties as she stretched down to grab a pen from the floor."Mr. Archer, are we going to have some kind of review for the finals before week?" Er, hi Erica. Finals? Well, I mean. Oh, finals! No, I don’t think so, we reviewed most of the content last week, remember? This week is for practice exercises only." But Mr. Archer, I’m not confident at all, I think I’m going to bomb it!" Well, Erica, I suggest you hit the books hard, then. It’s a bit. More

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