“What should I do?” she asked, sounding very meek. It reminded me of Aunt Christy, which may be why I spoke in such a commanding tone.“Take your...blouse and pants off,” I said.“My pants too?”“We’re working with plaster here,” I said, very businesslike.I watched her take her clothes off. She watched me ... watching her ... taking her clothes off. She looked at my crotch.“Don’t feel bad, honey,” she breathed, as she saw my lump.“I’m kind of used to it, by now,” I said.She giggled, half. Becky told me that I was to good to be a bus boy and so she took me under her wing and started training me as a waiter. I was getting great hours and the tips were fantastic. Pretty soon I would be able to buy my new car. I don’t think any of the other employees noticed the chemistry between Becky and me but if they did, they kept it to themselves.Early in the summer, Becky's fat assed husband Pat had a heart attack. They kept him in the hospital for several days for bypass surgery. Becky. More

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