“So was she good?” Greta asked flicking her eyebrows at me suggestively.“Yeah, she is all good now. The silly shifter had a crush on me. Hopeful...I’ve diverted it,” I replied happily and hugged Greta. Damn, now my cock was working. I happily rubbed it against my spouse. I also copped a feel of her lovely udder as I kissed her amorously.She pulled back from me and started giggling. “Oh, my poor little bull, it must drive you nuts at times,” she cackled.I looked at her bemused. She rubbed her hand. “But you’ll never get any of these outfits to print them,” said the man. “They’re too worried about bad publicity. You might be able to get a regular studio to print them.” He looked at me. “What kind of research is this, anyway?”I gave him the scaled down version of my theory, about how breasts might be important from an evolutionary view, or only a cultural view, and how I planned on having men choose which ones they liked best.It all turned out pretty well, considering the circumstances. I. More

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