April 8, 2000, Chicago, Illinois“Block residence,” I said when I answered the phone on Saturday morning.“Jesse! It’s Francesca! I miss you!”...“I miss you, too! Where are you?”“At my grandma’s house in Woodridge. Mom and I are living here and I’m going to go to St. Alphonsus/St. Patrick Catholic School.”“How can you call?”“Mom thinks it’s safe to leave me home alone here now. I wish you could come over!”“Me, too, but I can’t drive for two years!”“I miss being with you, Jesse. I miss all my. However, Jess was able to make the uniform stand out. Her pants fit her hips perfectly and showed off her tight round ass. Her polo shirt was almost too small, showing off her perky breast. She was the type of woman that had no problem flirting with everyone. She was hot and knew it. By the time the sun had gone down, we had taken several calls. Breathing problems, car accidents, domestic disputes and a few nursing home calls. Nothing exciting, until one in the morning. The call. “Oh, you've got to be kidding...” she muttered angrily.This was a custom-made tank top, very stretchable yet exceedingly strong, designed only to keep her very ample bosom relatively still while she performed whatever acrobatics made necessary by her searches. And now, she was hanging from it, just a few feet above ground. Her enormous mammaries, now unrestrained, wobbled and jiggled, still reeling from the fall. The fabric of Lara's top had stretched so much the courageous adventuress couldn't. A few hours have gone by since then and I hear a knock at the door in of which you then calmly let yourself in and walk over and sit at a desk, I walk on over to you and hand you some paper work that you didn't happen to get finished off as you wasn't paying any attention to what I was saying, once I have told you what I want you to do, I walk back over and sit at my desk it isn't long before you start doing the task I set you, after a few minutes you look over at me and wonder what it would be.