She seemed to understand our position better than I had at first. She should, she had a few more days to come to grips with it.I was about to leave on...my morning bike tour, when Betty came down the stairs. “Shouldn’t you wear spandex when you ride a bike. You do have a nice sexy ass,” she said.“I do not have a sexy ass. I have a manly ass, so no spandex shall ever touch this ass,” I said rolling the bike out the rear or the building. There wasn’t any traffic, so I spent my time looking around. They were a true contrast, these girls. Deanna had long, wavy brown hair and blue eyes. She had an elegance to her that Summer didn't quite possess. Summer was a classic blonde, who shared her eye color with Deanna, but little else in appearance. She had a bit of a tan, unlike her best friend. She was not quite as intellectual as her friend, either, though not the typical blonde bimbo that some would assume. She had a brain and ambition to be something: she wanted to be a reporter for the local. Of what has to have been one of the longest weeks of my life. But I’m almost home. And that makes me smile, even with the snow blowing into my face. Knocking the worst of the snow and mud off my ankle boots onto the porch steps, my cold wet fingers (even inside my little red chenille gloves) struggle to get my keys out of my purse and open the door. I’m attempting to line up the damn key when the knob turns in front of me as you open the door. ‘Baby!’ If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you. She came back with him to the rectory and to his assigned space in the church residence. Now, all she wore were the robes of white that Deacon Johnson had custom made for her at the suit maker in town. Maryanne wore her grandmother’s huge wooden cross suspended from her neck and it rested snugly between her oversized breasts braless because she refused to hide her God-given blessings behind a shield of propriety.He introduced her as “Sister Mary” and stated she had come to them as a sign of the.