“I still think it's kinda gross and want to make sure my hair is clean” she explainedat the increase in water temperature.“That's OK sweety. Now...turn around so I can wash your hair”I got a palm full of her shampoo and started to run my hands through her hair. Washing all traces of my earlier fantasy out. I smelled like flowers as I lathered her hair up. Taking deep whiffs of her shampoo, and water soaked hair. I reached down and while lowering myself to my knees slid her wet thong down her. Lunch time came around with other class members leaving and having a laugh at the fact i was in for a detention or something similar, with the classroom now empty she came to my desk looking down on me and muttered, "what will it take to get you focused", i just shrugged as she leant forward with her hands on my desk, but could,nt take my eyes of those huge breasts just inches away from my face, i know she was aware i was staring, and i caught a fleeting grin on her face as she saw i was. I get fan mail forwarded through my publisher. They save it up and then send it to me every couple of weeks, which can overload me sometimes. Today was the day for the load and I knew I'd spend most of the next day reading and responding to mail. I always took the time to respond personally to each letter. If people could take the time out of their day to write me a note, I could do the same for them. Of course, if I ever reached the point of getting hundreds of the things in a month, I might. In fact, it's not Opera at all - I mean - not the way that you dance it, Luc - it's simply a strip show and worse. There are people who come to this show to be titillated and for no other reason, and I've heard people admit it. I've heard them say that they don't come because of the worthiness of the music or the cleverness of the plot, but because they've heard it rumoured from some mate down the pub that an otherwise devout lady who sermonizes in Church is undressing and making a bare-assed.