“Well, not that,” I giggled as the Senior Monitor came up.“Apologies for the rush, sir,” he barked.“I’ll let it go, but was not amused,”...I replied dryly.“I’ll let them know and assign them extra training,” he replied.“Next time, if there is a next time, they can simply move me out of the way, or grab me and use me as a battering ram,” I chuckled.“I will so advise, sir,” he chuckled himself.“Continue the advance. I’ll continue to observe.”“Sir!” he replied, slamming his arm across his. We both understand that that is the real gift that I’m giving him: that I will not object unless he does something that I can not tolerate. And I can tolerate having my neck kissed for a second. Not for much longer than that, but for that one second, okay.I have never understood any man’s fascination with a woman’s breasts. They’re just little sacks of skin filled with fat and glands, no different than any other bit of skin on the body. Except after the children were born and I was breast. More

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