Thick cotton pyjamas, not unusual, it was winter. But I’ve never worn pyjamas with pink rabbits on them before, or with a pair of distinct mounds pu...hing out the fabric on my chest.“OK,” I told myself “Think calmly ... how the hell can I think calmly about this! Jesus Christ I’ve got breasts!”My mind flicked back to last night on the moor, the shooting star, my wish. It couldn’t be, could it? I mean that sort of thing just happens in children’s fairy tales.I felt sure if I stripped off and. A tunic top in faded red topped the outfit. Her hair was still wild with the hints of dark roots showing. She looked around, saw me and smiled an evil grin, and went through her ritual. Once more her breasts bounced as she moved. She lightly slapped her payment on the counter and greeted Steph in a loud voice.“Help yourself, Missy,” Steph cried out from the back. “I’m doing paperwork.”She repeated her previous ritual and sat across from me once more. But as she passed by me, she traced her. More

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