She was very prim and proper, always careful to say and do the right thing. A straight-laced Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes, only seventeen but already a...college sophomore making straight-As, church twice a week, Saturday mornings singing hymns at the old folks' home. I doubted she had ever farted in her entire life. If she had, it smelled like violets. "Okay," I said, wishing Karen would hurry up and get home. Alone. Without one of her studly boyfriends drooling like a dog behind her. Deb got us. That allowed her to sneak another peek at the lewd bulge in his shorts. She asked, "By the way, why are we standing on your front walkway? Can't we go in your house?" NO! We can't. Remember, I told you last time that you can never, ever, EVER come to my house. Period!" He didn't trust Heather any further than he could throw her, so while he was talking he was scanning the results she'd handed him."Why not? It's the logical and ideal place for me to get my reward." Reward? What are you talking. More

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