Hall of Infinite Doors
"Maybe just a little," you admit.
"You're being naughty, aren't you," she asks coyly.
"Just a little," you admit.
"It's ok. I know it's your job to check out my boobs, and I'm more than willing to share. Almost everyone I ever work with asks if they're real or not. 'Are those real?' One time this agent asked, so I let him feel me over on a train."
"An agent?" you ask.
"He had a business card, but he forgot it," she corrects. "Anyway, I admit--I got my parents to get them when I was seventeen. Here."
She sits down next to you, unbuttons her coat and presents her bountiful bosom to you.
"Well, go ahead," she urges, "touch them."
"You're being naughty, aren't you," she asks coyly.
"Just a little," you admit.
"It's ok. I know it's your job to check out my boobs, and I'm more than willing to share. Almost everyone I ever work with asks if they're real or not. 'Are those real?' One time this agent asked, so I let him feel me over on a train."
"An agent?" you ask.
"He had a business card, but he forgot it," she corrects. "Anyway, I admit--I got my parents to get them when I was seventeen. Here."
She sits down next to you, unbuttons her coat and presents her bountiful bosom to you.
"Well, go ahead," she urges, "touch them."