He sat down at a battered wooden table two vacant chairs distant from a woman. She was a young dishwater blonde, still in her twenties perhaps, and sh... gave no sign that she noticed his presence. Or would have particularly cared if she had.This guy plops his fat butt down at my table. Dressed in a suit and tie, Coke-bottle glasses, missing half his hair. Older. Old enough to be my father. Geez, must be one of those prof types from the college. Ultra-nerd. Freaky. What's he doing here? Must have. ”“You wanted your son to see you—naked?” the counselor repeated Ashley’s reply to add emphasis to the illicit attraction.Uneasily she replied. “Yes.”The ther****t pushed. “Why?”Ashley’s tone was demure. “I was thinking about John while I was in the shower. When I opened the bathroom door and I saw him, I was surprised he was home. Initially I was surprised he saw me. Then…” she trailed off to pause and then continue in an almost embarrassed tone, “I wanted to see if he liked me nude.”“You were. More

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