It was a Monday. I remember it vividly. Here is how I might have described her to Martin:She’s twenty-four, six years older than us. Five foot seven... Blonde hair, grey-blue eyes, the usual number of limbs. But not just blonde hair – it’s really, really fair, almost white; and it’s straight and long, almost waist-length; and when she’s intensely involved in something or deep in concentration, she pushes her hair back and tucks it behind her ears. She has a thin smile and high cheekbones and. Next I took out a matching tank top and put it on, it was at least a couple sizes small for me as it came ended just above my belly button and struggled to contain my breasts.I walked downstairs and watched some tv while I waited for dad to come downstairs. It didn’t take him long, about 10 minutes later he came downstairs. I looked at him and smiled “Morning daddy!” I said as I walked over and hugged him.“Morning sweetie” he said; relieved as he thought I didn’t notice what happened last. More

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