She turned around and walked to the shower. I stared at her little ass as she walked across the officials' room.She turned back around, came back, wal...ed past me, and locked the door. I was stunned."What are you doing?" I finally said.She walked back to the shower, turned around, and without a word, pulled up her sports bra.Jesus Christ. I couldn't believe the fucking chest on this girl. Beautiful. Round firm boobs. Small puffy nipples. Fucking God. I couldn't believe what I was looking at.And. Giving her credit, mom had tried very hard to be candidly open and honest with me growing up, even when some of my questions were a bit more intimate and mature, especially at my early age back then. I realized as she began to answer, she was trying to read between the lines however, even though I hadn't meant it to be taken that way."If you mean do I love Steven more than I loved your father? The answer is no. I will always love, and miss your father Cynthia," she told me. Always calling me by. I knew it had everything to do with the look and feel ofthe clothing, and so off went the silk blouse. But that wasn't theanswer. I knew down deep that it had little or nothing to do with thedamn blouse, but all to do with Greg Prewitt, 'the man' wearing a bra.By now my nerves were so shot that all attempts at removing the brawithout destroying it in the process, proved fruitless. I made for thebedroom to grab a nondescript ever so plain sweatshirt to cover myselfwith, but with each step I took. He was paired up with the only girl in the class who never talked, or showed any interest in him. Aiza, she was an 18 years old muslim girl. She never talked to boys, but was always very nicely dressed. She wore an mix of arab clothes and western clothes. And always covered by her hijab. Tom liked how her lips always was painted red, and even if she always wore hijab and no tight clothes, he could tell that she had big boobs and nice ass. Aiza was not allowed to stay at a boys apartment, so.