No answer.I was snarling rage as I clocked out. I headed back to my car and drove home. My daughter, Amber, had dinner started. She was bubbly, in suc... a good mood, almost glowing, her black hair sweeping behind her. I frowned at my eighteen-year-old daughter. I swear she had gotten laid today.“Anything happen at college?” I asked.“Just the most awesomest lesson from Ms. Marcie,” she said. “All the girls were involved.”I grunted. “Sounds fun.”She nodded her head. “How was work?”“It was going. "Bogie took me to Palm Springs last month and the poor dear's been complaining ever since."She wore an emerald suit, Givenchy, I believe. The silk tunic and pencil skirt accentuated her narrow, graceful form to good effect and I admired that look a great deal. I'm not sure it would have the same effect for me, given my well-rounded hips or especially my much larger breasts. Short skirts usually looked best on me, or red evening gowns with deep cleavage and very high slits. Whenever I took more. More

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