Her tiny fist struck the bag so hard that it sounded like an explosion. The leather of the bag split into shreds under the force of her blow, spilling...sawdust all over the floor. I stared at the shreds of leather that hung from the chain. It had survived thousands of punches not only from me, but also from every male counselor that had worked at Lake Peace, and Becky Finklestein had destroyed it with a single blow. “Oh my God,” I muttered.“You mean ‘oh my goddess’,” Becky corrected, stepping. "But down here is still dark," pointing the area below the tip of her ears, "and the tops are mostly dark, mixed with white hair," she finished the demonstration by whirling her hand above the head."You are very observant," I remarked with a smile. The smile was there to hide the jealousy that sparked in me at that moment. I did not want to discourage her by accident."Oh," she chuckled, "I guess..." So, you like mature men?" I wanted to come back to the main topic."Mmm... I guess..." she. More

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