I thought, too, of the picture her swaying haunches must have made behind her and was jealous of the others sitting on the pews. I was even jealous of...the fabric sliding across her milk skin and over the mole at the head of the fold of her arse.'By the time she stood beside me I was sure we were making a mistake. None the less, I said 'I do' (weakness of character, I guess) and so did she. 'I had taken up her dare. The seam of my trousers split my balls and the head of my prick chafed against. “Jack! Where is the report I asked you for an hour ago and why are you stocking shelves?” Roxanne, the store manager asks. “I’m sorry, I don’t have it. Don wanted the end cap swapped out and I had no one else to do it,” I say.“You’re the Assistant Manager, not a stock boy. I don’t pay you to fill the shelves, I pay you to manage. Get your shit together and get me the report I asked for,” she steams. Her puffy cheeks fuming red. She huffs and waddles away. The earthquakes with every step she. More

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