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That doesn’t change anything.” He looked me over for a few minutes, then came around the desk so that he was standing behind me, and said, “Let’s start by getting that bracelet from your hiding place.”I started to reach into my skirt to get it, but he stopped me and said, “No, I’ll get it.”When he said that, I sort of saw where this was going. I was a fairly attractive girl, with rather big breasts for my age… my tits were already 35D’s, with big areolas, and nipples that made noticeable bumps in my tops, even when I wore a bra….which I wasn’t wearing that day. I had a low cut crop top on that barely held my boobs in place, and a denim mini skirt, with thong panties underneath.The manager stood behind me and rubbed his crotch against the back of my head as he reached over my shoulder with one hand, and slipped it inside the waistband of my skirt, sliding it further down until his finger were inside my panties. His fingers found the bracelet I had hidden there, but he deftly pushed it. That made my head spin – the story itself and the fact that he could share it. We break for a smoke and we’re looking out on the highway, amazed at where we’re at, amazed that we’re there together. Happy to be there together. Happy that we’re nowhere else. The crazy city that we live in is buzzing right before our eyes – so at odds with what we both believe in yet so intoxicating to us both. We’re both ‘pretty happy’ by the time we leave and we think about going to another bar but we don’t want to so we get more supplies and head to our favourite park. It’s right in the middle of things but really it’s all ours and we’re totally isolated. We’re at the bottom of the tiny park, down a steep incline, looking out to the houses on the water, marveling at the quiet. Him opening up has been a good thing and it makes us both relax. I’m feeling pretty free and my mood reflects this and I think this encourages him to keep talking truthfully. He’s talking about his frustrations, his dreams,.
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