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"Does somebody want to explain to me why my daughter developed a filthy mouth on a simple hunting trip?"Had anybody had any sort of answer for her, Lucy might have bought it.But all anyone did was stare at her with guilty looks.She looked over at Bob, who was sitting very still. "Bob? What the hell is going on here?"Bob had no plan of any kind.Lucy's eyes narrowed. He'd been right when he told the teens she could read him like a book. She did that now."Bob?" Her voice sounded puzzled. "Why do you look so nervous? And why are you sweating?" I don't feel good," he said, his voice still weak. "I think I'd better go." I think you'd better stay," said Lucy, her voice now stern. "What the fuck happened on this camping trip?"All three teens gasped as one. It was the first time any of them had heard a word harsher than "Darn!" issue from Lucy's lips. She wasn't a prude, or Puritanical in her outlook on life, but she had always preached that the use of curse words suggested a lack of. I hadn’t had pot roast since my wife died. We finished dinner and Rachel asked to be excused, so I volunteered to help Becky with the dishes. At least that way I could keep my eyes on her magnificent round ass and those glorious breasts (the rest of her was pretty sensational, too). After the dishes were done she said she wanted to talk to me about Rachel. I suddenly became very uneasy. “I want to thank you for all you’ve done for Rachel,” she said. “Actually, I haven’t done that much. She is a wonderful student.” “No, I was referring to yesterday afternoon.” Now I knew I was in deepest shit. I figured she’d call the cops on me or force me to give up the teaching job which I’d come to enjoy very much. “I… uh… uh,” I stammered. I was speechless. Becky started to laugh. “No, Michael, I’m not angry. I’m thrilled.” “You are?” I asked incredulously. “Yes. Becky and I have a very close relationship. We share everything. She told me weeks ago that she wanted you to be the one. I even.
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