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Working mother Stories

working mother
Welshdreamer42

It didn’t fit. It was the right style and cupped her left breast like a glove, but the right side gaped. “Everything alright?” Angie twisted, checking all angles in the mirror. “I’m going to try it with the blouse,” she said, bending to extract a small square of folded white cotton from a blue plastic bag. “Call if you need me.” “Will do.” Angle shook the blouse, tags flapping. She dressed, muttering, “Why white?” as she...