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“I can shower myself.” Debbie put her hands on her hips and frowned at me critically.“You can barely stand up,” she countered. My legs chose t...at moment to wobble, and she quickly stepped into the stall and pressed herself into me, stopping my fall. “See?” She added dryly. “Now move your hands, Jake. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, and besides, it’s just a shower.”Just a shower. Right. Closing my eyes, I moved my hands away, cringing inside at the thought of Debbie being disappointed when. As she sat at her desk, the phone rang. It was Jackson and he said Cherry was expecting her for lunch. It wasn’t a request, it was an order. She wrote down the restaurant and wondered if she could afford to buy lunch. Marsha was nervous when noon arrived. She drove to the restaurant and thought about driving back to work when she saw such a ‘ritzy’ restaurant. She knew her budget was over extended. She was beginning to drive away when she was stopped by Cherry.Cherry smiled and said,. I had a few jars in the pub, like you do, well there's fuck all else to do is there, checked out the train times, like there's one every quarter hour from Weatherfield Madison Road to Picadilly, so why the fuck is there three a fucking day from fucking Fort fucking William, and one of them takes so fucking long two of the fucking coaches has fucking beds instead of seats.Still it beat the hell out of Al's fucking Transit van so I hit the plastic and got me self a bed on the half past seven to. My thighsand calves were rounded, my hips and stomach forming the approximatesilhouette of a pear. I had pillowy breasts that gave a surprisinglyimmediate sensation when I dared to touch them. And my hands... Theyweren't tiny but were undeniably feminine, the nails polished to agleam; the fingers narrow.My hair was long now, dropping to the base of my neck and curling in, aflick of it coming down diagonally to overlap my right eye.As for my clothes...! I was wearing a blue woman's business.
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