." she said, drawing out the word. "Do you masturbate?" she asked frankly, "And what do you think about when you do?" I coughed, barely believing what...I had just heard. "What kind of a question is that, Laura? I'm your best friend's father! That's none of your business and a very inappropriate thing to say. You should be ashamed."She shrugged off my reply. There was a slight pause, then she asked again, "Well, DO you? You might as well tell me. I'm nineteen; it's nothing new to me."I was. The rusty S-10 was burning oil, to the tune of a quart or so in 500 miles, and the exhaust had a definite acrid smell of burnt hydrocarbons to it.With a silent groan, she picked up the parking ticket neatly tucked under the passenger side windshield wiper, wondering if she could somehow put the ticket on the expense report she would send Commander Fales this month. With a sigh, she figured probably not, that the Navy would deem it her expense for choosing to park at a meter not located outside. More

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