Miss Maggie had big tits, I always thought 39” though I’d got no way of knowing. What I do know is that She was in my thoughts most days as I was ...rubbing up and down (‘up-down’, geddit?) on my knob. It was very difficult to find ways of watching girls for real and wanking, unless I was lucky enough to see them walking down my street as I was at my window, knob in hand, but on this occasion Miss Maggie was wearing a tight jumper and I couldn’t think of anything else, just going boss-eyed ogling. She had to.When I started walking in the morning, I pulled off my shoes and went barefoot. Shoes were precious and we would travel 300 miles before we could reasonably expect to replace them. Miranda’s shoes with their high-top laces were also likely to give away the fact that I was not really a man. I thought about what it would take to make moccasins. Once we were across the river, I would have to hunt and kill a deer. Then we would have to tan the hide and smoke the meat. That meant we would. "He's really a nice guy, and, when he turns it on, could charm the socks off a nudist."We shared a small laugh."Thanks, Gavin. You made me feel better." She put a quick friendly smile on, reaching over to squeeze my arm. "Back to work," she said, standing."Give me your phone number, Sal. I'll call you later." I brought out my pen and poised it over a napkin."What for?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly."I'll ask a friend how she handled her Peter Pan, and will gladly share it with you.". I also arranged to meet her at lunch-time. At Icomsec, I was greeted by Franz and a good-looking, if stern, woman, the head of Human Resources.“Welcome, Steve,” Franz smiled. “Let me introduce you to Emily Manton? She’s head of HR.”“Thank you, um, Franz.” I held out a hand to the woman. “Good to meet you, Ms. Manton.”“It’s mutual, Mister Thompson.”“I’m hoping,” Franz inserted, “that we can have lunch together?”“I’m expecting to meet my fiancée,” I prevaricated.“Well, in no way would I interfere.