Part 10
Frances opens her eyes. She had been in bed a long time, and she was suprised her dad had let her sleep that long. She gets out of bed, and stretches, she wonders if her night with George had been a dream.She looks through her pocket, and finds his phone number. She should check if Dad's home though.
She takes a long, hot shower first. She few seconds before lathering in the steam. It reminds her of the comfort, sleeping in George's arms had given her. She couldn't believe what her friends had told her, there is no way that man, who could move mountains with his passion, could ever be gay. Telling people he was great was the understatement of the existence of the world. She couldn't figure out what religion he was, during their talking, but she would happily join it, if he could move her so spritiual every time they had sex. She wonders why her dad never metioned him, besides he was the computer guy. Maybe he did, she really needs to listen more when he talks about work, there is no telling what she can learn about George. She hadn't learned much last night, he had been so kind just to let her let out everything that has been building up inside her for awhile. He was as he said a great listener. She wanted to listen to him though, something in his voice charmed her, and she was so fascinated by her. And he was so easy to please. She had never been allowed to explore someone that fast, and she had memorized every spot. She especially found that spot, where the people usually say the third eye, is cute. All she had to do was kiss him there, and he would do anything. It was his sweet spot, and he had touched in her emotions she had never felt. She doesn't know how she had been so lucky. She finishes her showers, thirty minutes later, dries off, and steps out. She gets dressed quickly.
She goes to the kitchen and she finds a note. She reads it. "Got a case. Sorry, hon. I will see you later. I hope you enjoyed sleeping in late. I thought you might need it, I don't know what you did last night hon, but you were floating, and I would rather you sleep it off then go out and do something else. Coffee's hot in the pot. I will try not to come in too late. Love, Dad."She finds it cute today, and doesn't crumple it up like always. She hopes George will tell him what happens tonight. She really doesn't want to think this reaction came from her doing drugs -or- something. Though maybe any other day she would like him believing that, but not today.She wasn't going to yell at him about it though.She was going to speak calmly to him, and not call him names. She had turned over a new leaf, all because of one Mr. George Fraley. She wants to call him, though, but they have a case. Maybe he isn't really that busy. Now, is not the time, but she wants to hear his voice, even if she were to call , and hang up. "That's childish though." she scolds herself. She makes herself a cup of coffee, and goes into the living room. A book catches her eyes. "The Client," by John Grisham. She had always wondered why her father had all these books on crimes, and things related to the criminal world. She had noticed books like this on George's bookcases as well, especially books by this Grisham guy. Maybe they are on to something. She pulls the book out, and curls into her father's chair, setting the coffee mug, next to her, on the italian wood table, and opens the book. It will keep her occupied until dad gets back, -or- at least until its a safe time to call George.
Frances opens her eyes. She had been in bed a long time, and she was suprised her dad had let her sleep that long. She gets out of bed, and stretches, she wonders if her night with George had been a dream.She looks through her pocket, and finds his phone number. She should check if Dad's home though.
She takes a long, hot shower first. She few seconds before lathering in the steam. It reminds her of the comfort, sleeping in George's arms had given her. She couldn't believe what her friends had told her, there is no way that man, who could move mountains with his passion, could ever be gay. Telling people he was great was the understatement of the existence of the world. She couldn't figure out what religion he was, during their talking, but she would happily join it, if he could move her so spritiual every time they had sex. She wonders why her dad never metioned him, besides he was the computer guy. Maybe he did, she really needs to listen more when he talks about work, there is no telling what she can learn about George. She hadn't learned much last night, he had been so kind just to let her let out everything that has been building up inside her for awhile. He was as he said a great listener. She wanted to listen to him though, something in his voice charmed her, and she was so fascinated by her. And he was so easy to please. She had never been allowed to explore someone that fast, and she had memorized every spot. She especially found that spot, where the people usually say the third eye, is cute. All she had to do was kiss him there, and he would do anything. It was his sweet spot, and he had touched in her emotions she had never felt. She doesn't know how she had been so lucky. She finishes her showers, thirty minutes later, dries off, and steps out. She gets dressed quickly.
She goes to the kitchen and she finds a note. She reads it. "Got a case. Sorry, hon. I will see you later. I hope you enjoyed sleeping in late. I thought you might need it, I don't know what you did last night hon, but you were floating, and I would rather you sleep it off then go out and do something else. Coffee's hot in the pot. I will try not to come in too late. Love, Dad."She finds it cute today, and doesn't crumple it up like always. She hopes George will tell him what happens tonight. She really doesn't want to think this reaction came from her doing drugs -or- something. Though maybe any other day she would like him believing that, but not today.She wasn't going to yell at him about it though.She was going to speak calmly to him, and not call him names. She had turned over a new leaf, all because of one Mr. George Fraley. She wants to call him, though, but they have a case. Maybe he isn't really that busy. Now, is not the time, but she wants to hear his voice, even if she were to call , and hang up. "That's childish though." she scolds herself. She makes herself a cup of coffee, and goes into the living room. A book catches her eyes. "The Client," by John Grisham. She had always wondered why her father had all these books on crimes, and things related to the criminal world. She had noticed books like this on George's bookcases as well, especially books by this Grisham guy. Maybe they are on to something. She pulls the book out, and curls into her father's chair, setting the coffee mug, next to her, on the italian wood table, and opens the book. It will keep her occupied until dad gets back, -or- at least until its a safe time to call George.