Then things changed. Marge was forty-two years old and quite a beautiful woman. I would have done her in a minute but I had never got a vibe that she ...as into that. I had never made a move on her. She was the oldest child in her family. Personally, I was an only child, and perhaps a little spoiled because of it. I'd always gotten whatever I wanted. To a certain extant, of course. We were not rich people, but we were certainly well off. Marge's family was her father and mother, and two sisters,. As she turns around she instinctivly shots her hand forward and grabs a mess of blond hair, her poor teammate trying to sneak up on her being quite suprised by this move lets out a quick and high-pitched squeel before she said weakly «it’s me, it’s linn».The facial muscles relaxing visibly on nora’s face, betrays her eyes which are wandering up on this blond who disturbed her peace and quiet.As the blond (in nora’s mind) gets into the only available shower with light, she can’t help but look. More

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