Slowly, very slowly, I realized that it wasn’t about me. What Dad had written more or less confirmed that.It was weird to read Dad’s description o... me. It made me feel strange in my head. The little Bec in my brain that always stays back and watches had been nodding and saying “That’s what I see.” I felt bad about making Dad uncomfortable because I sometimes understand what he’s thinking. Sometimes I guess and my guesses turn out right. Sometimes I get it wrong. In all this time, Dad has hidden. In school, whenever Cindi was deeply passionate about something, she always got this serious tone in her voice. Just like when we ran together at the Cross Country finals at the State competition, she made up her mind to do the best she could, and win that trophy. Needless to say, she did. And now I heard those same inflections in her voice… that determined, assured tone of conclusiveness and vigor. She never ceased to amaze me in that respect. In the days that followed, Cindi and I spent. I extended my reach to include drawing the flogger across her other nipple and started my trail on down her body. I went very slowly dragging the flogger across her stomach and made my way down her left thigh, almost to the knee, then went back up her leg and down the other about as far. I went back up her right leg, then allowed the flogger to slide down over her pussy. I pulled the flogger back and began to lightly flick it against her pussy for several strokes until her hips began to move in. If he had to guess, he’d say that Paula Lambert was in her early thirties. She actually looked much younger, but he reasoned that someone in their mid-twenties would not have the experience to head a large hospital. He followed the strawberry blonde down the main corridor to a door with a frosted glass pane. She pulled out a key, unlocked the door, and then handed him the key. ‘There’s this outer office, we’re interviewing administrative assistants now,’ she informed him, pointing to a small.
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