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"You look ... scruffy." I do?" He narrowed his hazel eyes."Only a little," I said, just so he wouldn't be totally embarrassed. "A haircut too maybe." I dunno," he cleared his throat a little and he was turning a bit red."You got the rebel thing going, huh?" I teased him. "I mean, the leather jacket and all." Yeah, maybe," he looked up at me "You don't like it?" It doesn't matter what I like," I shrugged."What if it did?" he wondered, bringing his soft eyes up to mine, just for a split-second."Are you like hitting on me?" I giggled and he blushed hard and looked away."Hey!" Dana was there and she'd probably been eavesdropping for a while, waiting for a good moment to inject herself into Ronald's life like the cure for cancer."Hi," Ronald looked at her and this was a good time to go back to my book."What's your name?" Dana came in and sat on the guy's bed, sorta bouncing her butt on it. She had her tomboy thing going, wearing skinny brown cords and a boy's polo shirt over her slim. But it was too much: he slammed his feet into the ground, unloaded thick jets of spunk deep into her sweet pussy. Back in the present, Helen waved away another boring middle-class couple: glasses, plain clothes, middle-of-the-road c***d with nothing interesting to say for himself. She looked at her notes for the next c***d, aware that her parents were sitting: Jane Taylor. A pretty, popular girl – in other words: a bitch: the kind of girl she hated when she was at school, and who still went out of her way to be nasty to her. Helen looked up – and it was as if all the bl**d drained from her body. The girl’s father was Mike. ‘Hi, you must be Miss Parker,’ he said, showing no sign of worry, but smiling in a way that let her know he remembered (and enjoyed) everything. This set her at ease slightly. ‘Mr and Mrs Taylor, nice to meet you.’ Mike replied in kind, Mrs Taylor just stared. ‘Shall we get onto the report?’ she said in a cold voice. Clearly Jane inherited her mother’s manners. In.
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