After an hour or so I notice Mia surrounded by this group of guys. I decided to see what's going on and walked over to her. Before I could say anythin... she walked up to me and gave me a quick kiss. Hey babe I've been looking for you. Confused by just what happened she whispered I'll explain later just keep walking. On our way up she told me that those guys kept hitting on her and would not leave her alone. I was glad to play the fake bf rule for a free kiss. As we talked on our way up, I. .. what?" was all I could stay. In shock I took a half step back andalmost fell over. I was Vienna. I looked down and saw her turtleneck. Ifelt the tightness of the turtleneck over her... over my breasts. I waswearing her jeans. I was wearing her high heels. As I looked back up Ifelt the ponytail move behind my head.Before I could ask what was going on, Vienna in my body grabbed my handsagain and looked into my eyes. Within seconds I was myself again."What the hell is going on..." I asked,. " In a very flustered fashion as she closed her laptop quickly and looked at me with an extremely flushed face.I calmly sat opposite her. I immediately noted that she was wearing a very tight skimpy top that clung to her firm, obviously braless breasts, her nipples poked through the fabric, looking so hard that I had to wonder what she had been doing when I disturbed her.I chuckled, "Are you working from home today Donna?"Donna replied in a trembling voice, "I have a major presentation to. My first year with Mercury had been excellent. The learning curve had been ninety degrees to the plane, but I was a fast learner, and, as it turned out, a good salesman. Actually I was the company's number one salesman. It was just after Memorial Day that an opportunity, that had been totally unexpected, came my way.I was just finishing up a lunch meeting with Greg Albright, president of Western Systems: a company mainly involved with security stuff for high-rise office buildings, and the like..
Read MoreI became pen pals with a number of them. It’s hard to believe that women would be so desperate that they would write a convict whom they’ve never
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