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She waited until I took my seat and said, "Honey, I know how you feel now, but trust me—the feeling wears off right quick." This has nothing to do with my ring or my love life. It was an offer I don't intend to refuse."She sighed and walked away, no doubt telling herself she'd done all she could. She had, but I wasn't buying her line of bullshit.My co-workers avoided me like the plague all that day and part of the next. I found out why late that next afternoon. Mr. Wainwright stopped by my cubicle about three o'clock and said, "You're fired. Your last check will be mailed to you."There was nothing to do but leave.When Connie arrived at my house that evening at five o'clock, I told her what had happened. Over dinner—stir-fry, one of her favorites—she said it might be to my advantage. She made a few calls after dinner, then we sat in my recliner and kissed for a while. We moved to the bedroom and made love about ten, and before she left for home she made me promise to keep my cell phone. It had never occurred to her to dwell upon her physical appearance. But after her afternoons with Michael she found herself with a renewed interest in seeing herself as others saw her. And so she went over and stood in front of the mirror. And she gazed at her image it was as if this was the first time she was seeing it.Of course, other people didn't get to see her naked as she was seeing herself. She gazed at the image projected in the mirror. She was a moderately tall girl, five seven, slim but not skinny, with fleshy thighs and hips, a nicely rounded bubble butt, and of course the two lemon-sized titties which had so captivated Michael over these past two days. She had worn her hair in a long braid which had hung down her back earlier that day. Her hair was still in the braid as she hadn't wanted to shampoo her hair during her shower, but she had flung it to the front, and it was partially covering her left titty.She studied those two little hillocks which Michael had seemed to.
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