I Would Never Imagine Such Beautiful Tits Under...

It was one of the most restful slumbers that I could remember. Maybe it was the salt air, or perhaps it was the sex in the air.When I awoke, Joe was already up, eating a bowl of cereal. I joined him, and we discussed my jobs for the day. Charlene didn't get up until well after Joe had left for work. I jumped right into my chores, taking advantage of the cooler morning temperature. I started by digging up a wild tree next to the outside shower that had grown so fast, it was over ten feet tall already. I had already cut it down a few times in the past, but it kept sprouting up again as if to defy me. This time, I not only cut it down, but I dug it out by the roots to make sure it wouldn't miraculously pop back up again.That done, I went about replacing the hinges on the saloon-type doors that led into the changing room in front of the shower. That salt air was brutal on metal, and the old hinges were rusted so badly, the doors would hardly swing anymore. As I looked up, I was. I took a good bit of kidding as we got to know each other, my suit and tie being a favorite topic. The girls had a healthy disrespect for the paternalistic power structure of the bank, and I came to agree heartily with them as I experienced it. It was my first real job, I had yet to learn about office politics, coping with insane policies form on high and crazy people in general. To my complete surprise I found out that the women disliked their "Bank Uniform" as much as I was coming to dislike to wearing a suit all the time. I gradually came to realize that the white-blouse-and-black-skirt dictum had become a shorthand way of railing against the blatant sexism of the bank, and my suit simply reminded me that I was not part of the elite but expected to dress as if I was. The pay was adequate if you didn't have a family to support, but respect was non-existent. At the same time we handled a great deal of cash each day and were expected to keep our customers happy while.
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