You make me nervous. Horny…very horny and nervous.” Breathe, I told myself. “Aside from being my boss, you’re smart, and attractive, and funny... and rich. Whereas I’m functionally retarded, I’m cute by the grace of Weight Watchers, I laugh at my own jokes, and if I lose my job I’ll be on the streets in four months.” I drew a breath. “I’m afraid.” Where the hell did that nugget of truthiness come from?! “You’re afraid of me?” He leaned away from me. “A little.” Even as I spoke the words, I. Amanda and I were identically dressed. My tight cut-off tee shirt barely came down over the swell of my perky little tits, leaving plenty of bare midriff and nothing much to the imagination. The material of my blue volleyball shorts strained at every seam, putting on a fine display of camel-toe. Tiny snorted back a laugh as Bam-Bam elbowed him in the ribs. They muttered and giggled amongst themselves like schoolboys, most likely offering opinions on where we girls might manage to conceal an. More

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