“Mrs. B. is never traveling with you for 1400 miles,” I offered. Danny snagged a huge sweatshirt off a rack and pulled it over her head. She not ...nly hid her huge knockers but the sweatshirt came down to her thighs hiding the tight jeans. “Go ahead and plead your case,” I said pointing towards my wife. Danny laid out a huge sob story about her job ending, being nearly broke with no way out unless she could get to Texas where her momma had a waitress job ready for her. My wife looked at me. And 8 th St. She was late for her interview. She had a rough idea of where the office building was. She knew this neighborhood fairly well. The YMCA where she’d taken gymnastics lessons as a kid was about three blocks behind her. And if she turned right at the next light, there was a Chipotle about 5 minutes or so down that road. Since she and her friends had been old enough to drive, it seemed like she ended up there at least two or three times a week. “How do you fit that whole burrito. More

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