How to Train Your Daughter Ch. 3
When Ramer arrived, I poured him a glass of scotch, grabbed a notebook and pen, and led him up the stairs to Jennifer’s bedroom, where she was doing her homework. I knocked on the door and opened it. Despite Jennifer’s age, pink was still the main color of her personal space. Her white princess bed frame and pink bedspread dominated the center of the room; though she was normally quite tidy, she had just washed a load of her panties, which were arranged in a colorful, lacy profusion along the metal rail of her footboard to dry. Her desk was in front of the window, and she sat in an office chair with her back to us as we entered, working at her computer. Her long, dark ponytail bobbed in surprise as she turned and …