My breasts felt snug in the bra. It controlled my movement and took a lot of the weight. They didnt pull when I walked. I felt like I could move aroun... without being aware of them with every movement. I loved it. I loved my breasts first as a man would, then as something that proved I was a woman, but I was learning got in the way, but now, settled into my new clothing, I loved them more than I ever had. I couldnt wait to throw on sweatpants and a tee shirt. I looked beautiful still, although. She’s smiling like she’s just learned a secret. Our ages being so close makes it hard for our relationship to not morph into friendship instead of the boss-assistant that we are. She’s a pretty girl. I’ve noticed men find her sexy. Too many guys stop by her desk to chat when they should both be working. She’s shorter than me—curvier, blonde and busty. She’s only two years younger but seems much more. She doesn’t have a serious bone in her body. She’s all smiles and giggles. She’s been married a. More

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