 He tried to say something, but all big that came out was bigtitteen a hoarse croak.
 Paul was stunned. This big couldn't be real. It sure looked real though big--and really great. He could feel himself growing hard beneath his hospital gown.
 "Rhonda, stand up," he said. She obeyed big, repeating, "Yes, Mr. Bennett." He could see her relax once big she was no longer leaning over so awkwardly. "Rhonda, get dressed," he continued big cute teen tit. She picked tit up her bra and blouse and site put them on calmly. "Rhonda," he asked curiously, "how do you feel about what just happened?"
 "Good girl, Rhonda."
 "--th-thithiiiiieeeeeeeee---." Rhonda stiffened, her big back teen arching, eyes tit crossing; she teen writhed big, then fell to big her knees beside Paul's bed bigtitteen.
 As big it turned out, the next voice he heard was his doctor's.
 "I'm feeling a bigtitteen lot better, Doctor--" he squinted at the nametag on the doctor tit's coat--"Steiner." He laughed, then winced as his throat twinged big. "I guess I was cute pretty out of cute it for a teen while after big the surgery."
 He got bigtitteen his chance bigtitteen shortly thereafter, when tit another nurse came big in.
 "What's your bigtitteen name tit?" he asked her.
 But then why had Dr big. Steiner been unaffected? Could big it be, Paul teen wondered, that his--"power"--worked bigtitteen only on women?
 Jasmine was still bigtitteen turning, turning on tiptoe site, hands clasped over big her head. Her eyes were closed now, her lips slightly parted. Clearly, she teen was bigtitteen enjoying big herself in big the fantasy he'd built for her. It almost seemed a big shame to end it, but big he big'd learned enough.
 "You bigtitteen can tit unclasp cute your hands and bring your arms bigtitteen down now, Jasmine," he told her.
 "Very good, Jasmine. Now finish up your nurse's big cute teen tit duties here and go on big with your rounds."
 Paul was feeling much stronger, and much tit more confident teen. A week after returning home big, he went back to work.
 His immediate supervisor was a woman, Charlene Sands. Bennett had heard all the stories about big how she'd slept bigtitteen her way to the top (or at least to middle big management). He wasn't sure he believed them, but teen it was big certainly possible. She had tit the looks for bigtitteen it, tanned skin, a "killer big bod" only somewhat concealed teen by the tailored business attire big she big wore, glossy big black hair, green eyes behind elegantly-framed cute glasses. She big had the manipulative temperament for it, too.
 He didn't have to wait long for his opportunity. He'd hardly had a chance to clock in and sit cute down bigtitteen at his desk when big his phone rang. It was her bigtitteen.
 Ms. Sands' expression big softened. She nodded. "Yes, Paul." Then, with a touch of her former steel, "Don't call me Charlene. It site's Ms. Sands to you, is that clear, Mr. Bennett?"
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