He could easily walk up toone and ask. The jogger coming up along the path, for instance, or thetwo throwing a frisbee back and forth by the tree, or ...hat guy readingon the bench. Any one of them could easily take it off.They could also ruin everything for him with just a couple words.It was a risk. Maybe they'd recognize the serial number and decide totake home a slut. There was cute couple holding hands just a ways upahead. The girl wore a collar, of course, but didn't look like she hadever. I grabbed them, I squeezed them, I was almost 100 percent certain thatthey felt nothing like breast. It was just fat, wasn't it? I frowned. Itwasn't as if touching them gave me enjoyment. I tugged at them, hopingthey would just pop off. I pulled the skin just under the base of mybreast in an attempt to flatten out the region. Nothing worked and Ifigured I was stuck with them. My aunt was under the idea that theywould go away once I was in full swing of puberty, which seemed to betaking forever. More

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