The slightest of smiles would play across his lips, then purse into a kiss. He would slowly return the photograph to the box and close the lid.Like th... monotonous flapping of a bellows returns a dying ember to bright flame, the repeated visits aroused Helen's curiosity.Today was no different than any other. Helen pulled the box, opened the lid, and stepped back. Today was no different as Mr. Williamson picked up the photo, looked at it, traced the image with his fingers, smiled and blew that. I've been telling myself that the push-up bras I've worn have were justmaking faux cleavage out of the flesh that was there, that any guy in asufficiently tight push-up would have the same effect. Looking now, atjust my chest, ignoring that it's my chest, ignoring my face, or mycrotch, I can't help but think it looks like a young girl's, justhitting puberty. Slightly larger nipples than I remember, and asoftness around them.Gently I explore my chest, it's tender to my prodding, an echo of. More

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