She squealed, "Son! Please!" She twisted and squirmed in his grip, but made no real effort to get away.He reached up her body, pulled her shirt up to ...er armpits, and squeezed her ample tit-flesh. He knew that would help her resolve weaken in a hurry. "Sorry, Mom. Rules are rules. What are you supposed to wear when cooking breakfast?"Susan loved how he overruled her so authoritatively. She said in an orgasmically strained voice, "Whatever you tell me to wear! You're the boss." She stepped back. Which he seemed to be almost intentionally dense at figuring out.With that they got dressed and then George started to wonder. What exactly had happened to Krista and Justin? Were they still on the train? Did he run a chance of running in to them at breakfast? That wouldn’t be particularly good. With that question bugging him, he pressed the porter call button and within a few seconds, Uncle Dave was at the door.“Good morn’n,” he started with a smile, “breakfast is bein’ served in the dining. I was fired up and eager to be home and share the good news: I’d landed another big contract, and was on the inside track to land salesperson of the year and a stupendous bonus. Thanks to some coaching from Stacey, I’d learned that a little more T&A went a long way. A modest outlay for edgy outfits, stockings instead of pantyhose, and so forth, had turned into whopping increases in signed business. Some of my competitors and colleagues had cried foul, but I chalked it up as envy. I mean, what. She remembered how fancy, and expensive, the Administration building was back where she came from. After talking with some people in the front office, Aunt Jessica took her to a small room in back. Here Danielle took test after test, some of them silly word association, others requiring her to bend and fold shapes and pick what they looked like. She also had to write a short essay, and answer a number of questions that she found confusing. When she finished the last one she learned that each.