Only problem is, they kill your sense of taste and smell for about an hour after smoking one." He said, before taking another drag. "So what departmen... do you work in?" He asked."Don't ask." I answered, as I heard footsteps enter the non-smoking side of the breakroom. It was Kevin. "Oh shit." I thought, aloud."What?" Brian asked, looking to see what I was looking at.Kevin glared at me through the plexi-glass that divided our section from theirs. If looks could kill, I'd be as dead as a door. They looked like apair of pantyhose. he carefully read the instructions, but his mindwasn't really on it. he was day dreaming about the things he bought towear. the futa who sold it to him at the store was wearing it herself.it was tasteful, but only in that barely so, playboy sort of way. awide white cotton crocheted mesh dress-shirt with fluted, butterflywinged sleeves. it was kimono, in length as well as style. he smiledas he thought about it grazing his soon to be ample bubble butt ass.he. More

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