Miller as the bell rang. "I thought I'd explain a couple of things," Mrs. Miller said. "I said no underwear, and by that I meant no panties. Tomorrow,...and for the rest of the week, your assignment is to be as wanton as you can. I'm serious about this. Flash as much skin as you dare, and then maybe just a little more. Maryjean, you asked about a bra. Don't wear one, and leave your blouse unbuttoned almost all of the way down. It'll be uncomfortable, and you'll bounce all over the place when you. They know what you have done ... or much of it, anyway. These men are professional soldiers. You are already in the class with Alexander the Great and Napoleon.” He turned to her and asked, “Kelly, what would your attitude be if you were introduced to Napoleon Bonaparte?”“I ... I would be stunned, I guess.”“As would I. And as are they. First, you are taller than Bonaparte by a good bit. You are far younger. And you are one of the most beautiful women alive. Couple that with your undeniable. I ensured her silence by kissing her again, but inadvertently thwarted that plan by gently pinching a nipple and causing her to squeal into my mouth, the sound sweetly accented in an inexplicable way which was quite arousing. Then, everything seemed to happen both quickly and languidly, at once as rapidly as a bolt of lightning and as slowly as a speeding snail. Along the way, somehow, at some point, shoes were kicked off and out of the way, my sweatshirt was discarded, her jeans, my jeans, my. If Ivy wasn’t drunk, she would have probably been devastated. She would have been calling Lindsay and gushing to her about what a jerk Heath was. She would have been kicking herself for the stupid mistake she had made and wishing she could just sink into the couch and disappear. But she was drunk. So she sat there and stared blankly for a moment at the wall, slightly stunned. Then all of a sudden she felt a wrench in her gut, there was no time. Ivy bent over and threw up all over her shoes..