In the morning, she hands me a clean pair of panties that already has apanty line inside the crotch. She smiles as I put them on. Then shehands me a...woman's tee shirt. It's called a chemise. It's as silky asthe panties.Wear it under your shirt. See how you feel.I put it on. It's light and silky. It matches the panties and fits meperfectly. I notice everything is new. "You bought these for me?" Of course." She smiles and leads me over to her dressing table and sitsme down. She. "Sarah says we should trust each other", I said quietly; "Can you trustme with what's bothering you?"She nodded silently. Looking down at her feet, she whispered, "I thoughtwhen we saw your enhancers, that finally here was a friend as flat ontop as I am! It's lonely being the least developed one in our grade. Butnow I see you're not, and so I'm all alone again. See, I told you it wasstupid!"I put both my hands gently on her shoulders."Suppose somebody did have a flat chest, and was with new. I wear a nice business suit, white shirt and silk tie to the same office, and do the same routine things five days a week. My job dictates my attire, yet I embrace it. My salt and pepper hair is thick and nicely groomed, and, for several years now, I have sported a trimmed mustache and goatee to match. I detest the sardine-like conditions that go hand and hand with commuter travel, but tolerate them. As with every rush hour commute, the car was packed elbow to elbow, with barely room to turn. "She couldn't look him in the eye."Yes, I know," she replied, almost inaudibly.As she entered the so-called dressing room, seventeen sets of eyes were cast her way. The other women ranged in age from a scrawny teenager who Mioki swore couldn't have been more than fifteen or sixteen to three women who would never see forty again. Most were in their twenties, a few even fairly attractive. The room was bare except for several folding chairs and a large mirror on one wall.Mioki sat down beside.