A ?simple? goal he was constantlyreminded he was failing.?Don?t you worry your pretty little head about the numbers, that?s myjob,? taunted Marla. ?O...fice skills, D+,? said Marla scratching out theB and writing D+ in red. ?Don?t look all pouty at me, that score is notsubjective. The computer tracks your speed and spits out your grade.?Ken had already known that in this office ?computers skills? = ?typingspeed.? Nevertheless, it was still a bitter pill to swallow when shoveddown your throat.. I hung the towel around my shoulders, the edges covering my breasts, the nipples hard as rocks and (I was sure) quite obvious beneath my leotard. I hurried into the shower room, not wanting to keep Elena waiting any longer than necessary, and stripped quickly, throwing my things into a free locker, then jumping into an open shower stall, washing the sweat off. Soaping my body down, my fingers lingered a little longer than usual between my legs, washing away not only the wetness that had. More

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