His body, all six feet plus of it, was trim. He wore a pair of khaki trousers and a blue shirt, with a burgundy tie. He was carrying a briefcase."Hi,"...he said to Bree, who was standing there gaping at him. "I'm Professor Cary Gordon. You'd be Miss Spencer, the photographer, right?"Bree recovered quickly. "Yes, I'm Bree Spencer. We'll do this whenever you're ready, Professor Gordon."He loosened his tie a bit. "Please, call me Cary. After all, you're about to know every-thing else, right?"Bree. .." Belatedly, she looked around at the girls present. "Sorry, gals."Nora shrugged. "I've learned that for Daddy, the 'regular' part of sex isn't as important as what else is going on -- and I'm beginning to think that might apply to Mom, too." What might apply to me?" Sharon asked, re-entering the room.Tabitha moved in smoothly. "She was jus' sayin' that you probly understood that sex is between the ears more than between the legs better'n most." Oh." Sharon examined this comment for negative. More

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