Megan grabbed at the rim of her nightshirt and pulled it over her head, feeling confident that if her father didn’t come upstairs yet, he wouldn’t...come at all. He had doubtlessly figured the loud noises were a temper tantrum and avoided it at all costs. She dropped the shirt onto the floor and tugged at Aaron’s head, still wiggling her hips a bit coming down from the orgasms. Aaron moved from her nipple and slowly kissed his way up the rest of her torso over her small neck and up to her mouth. “Yes, well eighteen year olds at least.” “Of course.” “What colours?” asked Danielle. “Black and white.” “And pink,” added Danielle. “Pink knee socks?” “Yes. How often do you see girls with pink, knee-high socks?” Emma smiled. “You don’t. Well, hardly.” “Exactly.” “So, what’s your plan to market them?” asked Emma. “I think we should take the direct approach,” said Danielle. “What’s the direct approach, in this context?” “We hit our target audience in the market place.” “But baby... our market. More

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