The two of them eventually walked out of her sight, only to reappear together on J.D.'s motorcycle. She had watched them until they disappeared as they turned to take the exit tunnel under the track.Allison was a 5'10" beauty, with black, neatly styled short hair, and dark eyes. Her classic figure was not quite concealed beneath the long sleeved, fully buttoned, pale green shirt that she wore. She was a reporter and interviewer for The Racing Channel, and the shirt bore her name over her right breast and their distinctive logo over the left. The shirt wasn't one that she would normally ever choose for herself, as it was not even remotely stylish or sexy, but because their NASCAR coverage was considered family entertainment The Racing Channel had decided that all of their staff would dress very conservatively.As she turned to leave, her eyes shone with unshed tears. She carefully transferred the headset and microphone she used for her interviews to her left hand and pulled the battery. As I continued to work at the firm I developed a major crush on him. He reminded me of my father without many of my father's flaws. My home life was never great. I had model parents as far as their looks went. Dad was of medium height and a solid build and very handsome. Mother was tall, 5' 10", just like I am. She was always fashionably attired. They were Ken and Barbie, without the boobs, brought to life. Most of our problems at home came from my father's ambition of having sex with every woman he met, and mother who didn't like sex at all.How did I know this? When I was a junior in college I was able, at the last minute, to get a ride home for the weekend. My parents were out at the time so I just stowed my things and went to bed. My room is on the first floor of the house just off the living room. My clock said 2:13 when I heard the loud voices in the living room.My mother's is loudly talking in the voice she gets when she's angry and drunk."In the pantry, the country fucking club.
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