Author: | R. Richard | ISBN: | 9781370266876 |
Publisher: | R. Richard | Publication: | November 5, 2017 |
Imprint: | Smashwords | Language: | English |
Author: | R. Richard |
ISBN: | 9781370266876 |
Publisher: | R. Richard |
Publication: | November 5, 2017 |
Imprint: | Smashwords |
Language: | English |
One fine day the fat ass hole I work for calls me in to his office. He gives me a little speech about, well I never really figured out exactly what it was about. After a time it slowly dawns on me that Donna and I are to take a customer to supper. The fat ass hole and his wife are pissed off because they thought that they should have been assigned to take the customer out. After a time I'm allowed to escape from the fat ass hole's office, although I still have no idea exactly what it is that I'm to do.
I then go to the department head. I point out that Donna and I are just fractionally above the level where we could get food stamps. I can't afford to front a client supper unless it's to be the dollar menu at MickeyD’s. What the hell am I to do?
The big man closes the door to his office and gives me yet another long rambling speech about the state of the economy, the state of the company and possibly global warming. Finally he gets to the point. Donna and I are to take a customer and his wife to a fancy restaurant, on the company credit card (company credit card, yes, yes, yes!) If we do well, there will be a promotion. After several more minutes of blathering the big man gets to the real point. The restaurant is a fancy topless place. The waitresses are topless and, as it turns out, so are the lady customers.
Suddenly the light goes on in my head. Donna has graduated from college as an A+ student. However, the path to our future now depends on the fact that Donna has also developed A+ breasts, during our trip though college. The fat ass hole I work for and his blimp wife aren't qualified for topless work. Donna and I are to win this first race by a tit. However, I still have to convince Donna to try the topless in public thing.
I think on the matter for a bit, without coming up with anything that even approaches a brilliant solution. After work, I go home to talk with Donna. I don’t remember if I actually backed through the front door at home or not. I start to give Donna the same type of speech that I had gotten from the big boss earlier, and then realize I'm only making an ass of myself.
I restart my little speech, “Donna, we have an opportunity to take a customer out to supper on the company.” (Translation: a night out, free food and no dishes to wash! I'm not sure if Donna actually orgasmed, but it was at least close.)
With the hook set, I continue, “The restaurant is a topless place. You might not like that sort of thing.”
Donna breaks in, “Barry, I have seen lots of breasts, since I had to take gym, back in high school. Now I look at myself in the mirror after I shower and there they are!”
I quickly jump back in, “About ‘there they are’ ...”
Donna’s A+ brain clicks full on. “Barry, you're telling me that it's not just the waitresses who'll be topless? The customer ladies will also be topless. If we go, I'll be expected to make a display of myself.”
I say brightly, “Ah, ... yes.”
Donna sits down beside me with the careful sort of approach one uses with those who don't have a clue. “Barry, all through school I had to listen to other girls talk about how they had gotten felt up by their dates. At that time, I didn’t even have anything to feel! I also wasn’t allowed to wear makeup, even if I could have afforded it. And, my clothes looked like Salvation Army thrift shop, which most of them were. My social life and my sex life was nil.”
Donna smiles gently, then continues, “When we got to college it was even worse, because I did, by then, have something to feel, but I couldn't afford to date. I would have liked to buy the kind of clothes that would have shown the boys that I did have something to feel, but you know all about my, then our, financial situation back in college.”
Then with a, ‘you naughty boy’ finger shake, “You were the only boy who ever really saw my breasts and the only boy who ever really felt my breasts.
One fine day the fat ass hole I work for calls me in to his office. He gives me a little speech about, well I never really figured out exactly what it was about. After a time it slowly dawns on me that Donna and I are to take a customer to supper. The fat ass hole and his wife are pissed off because they thought that they should have been assigned to take the customer out. After a time I'm allowed to escape from the fat ass hole's office, although I still have no idea exactly what it is that I'm to do.
I then go to the department head. I point out that Donna and I are just fractionally above the level where we could get food stamps. I can't afford to front a client supper unless it's to be the dollar menu at MickeyD’s. What the hell am I to do?
The big man closes the door to his office and gives me yet another long rambling speech about the state of the economy, the state of the company and possibly global warming. Finally he gets to the point. Donna and I are to take a customer and his wife to a fancy restaurant, on the company credit card (company credit card, yes, yes, yes!) If we do well, there will be a promotion. After several more minutes of blathering the big man gets to the real point. The restaurant is a fancy topless place. The waitresses are topless and, as it turns out, so are the lady customers.
Suddenly the light goes on in my head. Donna has graduated from college as an A+ student. However, the path to our future now depends on the fact that Donna has also developed A+ breasts, during our trip though college. The fat ass hole I work for and his blimp wife aren't qualified for topless work. Donna and I are to win this first race by a tit. However, I still have to convince Donna to try the topless in public thing.
I think on the matter for a bit, without coming up with anything that even approaches a brilliant solution. After work, I go home to talk with Donna. I don’t remember if I actually backed through the front door at home or not. I start to give Donna the same type of speech that I had gotten from the big boss earlier, and then realize I'm only making an ass of myself.
I restart my little speech, “Donna, we have an opportunity to take a customer out to supper on the company.” (Translation: a night out, free food and no dishes to wash! I'm not sure if Donna actually orgasmed, but it was at least close.)
With the hook set, I continue, “The restaurant is a topless place. You might not like that sort of thing.”
Donna breaks in, “Barry, I have seen lots of breasts, since I had to take gym, back in high school. Now I look at myself in the mirror after I shower and there they are!”
I quickly jump back in, “About ‘there they are’ ...”
Donna’s A+ brain clicks full on. “Barry, you're telling me that it's not just the waitresses who'll be topless? The customer ladies will also be topless. If we go, I'll be expected to make a display of myself.”
I say brightly, “Ah, ... yes.”
Donna sits down beside me with the careful sort of approach one uses with those who don't have a clue. “Barry, all through school I had to listen to other girls talk about how they had gotten felt up by their dates. At that time, I didn’t even have anything to feel! I also wasn’t allowed to wear makeup, even if I could have afforded it. And, my clothes looked like Salvation Army thrift shop, which most of them were. My social life and my sex life was nil.”
Donna smiles gently, then continues, “When we got to college it was even worse, because I did, by then, have something to feel, but I couldn't afford to date. I would have liked to buy the kind of clothes that would have shown the boys that I did have something to feel, but you know all about my, then our, financial situation back in college.”
Then with a, ‘you naughty boy’ finger shake, “You were the only boy who ever really saw my breasts and the only boy who ever really felt my breasts.