This time, it’s more demanding, and Patrick tightens his grip on me. I look down, and see my shirt and tie bunched up in his fist. I am extremely ...urned-on but regain my composure. I politely inform him that he’s wrinkling my shirt, which gets me another slap, and an ultimatum. I stammer, but tell him it was because of traffic (Or was it??) Patrick yanks me out of the chair, and pulls me up close. I can feel my shirt collar digging into my neck, and the seams under my arms stretching. He. It did help.At least it relieved my anxiety, and I stopped feelingself-conscious about all the girly stuff I'd been practicing, andI began to enjoy it, and began flowing. That's how she put it. Iflow all the time now." I have noticed, Mandy. Very gracefully. I wasn't sure I shouldtell you." I didn't notice it myself, but guys at the office sure did.They'd already started calling me 'the full Monty' when my chestbegan to fill out. Then when one actually saw a bra strap, thatdid it -- I. More

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