That was an idea. Maybe I could have him help me pick out some new bras and let him watch me try them on? No, that’s dumb. He’s your dad, not your boyfriend. Besides, how does making him buy me underwear count as a birthday present for him? Think, think! I glanced around the room and came up fruitless again. My eyes returned to the dirty bra hanging from the hamper. “I mean, I know he’s a boob guy,” I muttered. He couldn’t stop staring at them when he was in the booth with me and my mom was no slouch herself. Mine were a cup or two bigger, but she was still busty by anyone’s standard. Could I maybe just flash him? That didn’t seem like enough. Let him hold them? Again, this is your father you’re talking about, not some frat boy. Even still, I know he’s been craving sexual attention and release, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone to the glory hole. Twice. Plus, once more, just to watch me. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all to let my body help him out a little. Would that be so. ' Definitely not the 'Hi!' I'd just been hit with.I will admit I recoiled a bit from her greeting. Plus, there wasn't a hint of the 'Olde English' I figured she'd speak. I guess I'd assumed her greeting might be something like 'How are Thee'. The image before me just seemed inconsistent with what my ears were hearing.All that changed when Marilyn sent over to me, "Will, Spirits send out what 'They' want you to see but you can change that image to suit yourself and see them as 'You' want to see them."My head spun a little as I tried to figure out exactly what was happening. I questioned my own thinking. Was Sara actually dressed as I'd seen her or was I projecting what I expected or wanted to see.Sara answered that question herself with a little laugh then said, "Will. You were right. You saw me the way I was back in 1692. That's my favorite outfit. It's also the one I was wearing when they killed me."Seeing Sara sitting before me dressed in her 1692 frock and hearing her talk in the.
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