After lunch, I continued on my journey for work. The next semester, my daughter dropped out, moved back closer to home, and found a new set of friends... I see comments from some of her college friends on my daughter’s online posts, but never anything from the girl with the eyes. I didn't even remember her name. And then I got an unusual phone call from my daughter. "Hey dad, remember Theresa, from Platteville?" she asked. "No? Was she one of your roommates at the house?" "No, she was there that. Hell, my mom was smoking hot. She was petite, her skin bronzed by the sun everywhere her two piece didn't cover, and everywhere else a lovely milky white with perfect skin. I could alter where I looked and see most of what went on anywhere in that bathroom, and to this day I remember vividly everything about one night in particular. That night she peeled out of a tee shirt and jeans and readied her bath in a matching pair of silky black panties and bra. She had somewhat modestly sized breasts. More

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