Cheryl squirmed miserably in the hard chair facing the handsome, forty year-old employment counselor's desk. Through her mind raced a jumble of figures, some related to the minimum and she and Kenny would need to get by each month, some to the student loans he'd secure as a first-year student at the university. The bottom line was that she'd never make ends meet if she didn't make at least $1,200 a month.

"Mr. Kramer, there's just got to be something," she said desperately. "I mean, well, I'm not a really good typist, but fifty words-per-minute's nothing to sneeze at! And I'm conscientious and everything, and I'm a fast learner. There's just gotta be something!"

"As I said, Cheryl, I wish I could help."

Kramer folded his arms across his chest and leaned back behind the desk, giving Cheryl a stony look that indicated that, as far as he was concerned, the interview was over. Then, as Cheryl had known it would, his gaze wandered lower, taking in her enormous tits. She hadn't deliberately dressed that day to show off her huge tits, but it was impossible to conceal their size, at least in proportion to her otherwise petite, slender body. The nineteen year-old blonde had long ago grown so accustomed to having men ogle her big tits that she tended to take such stares for granted.

But Cheryl knew now that she had to put her great tits to good use, just as she she'd used them with Mr. Nixon. She didn't like the idea of having to fuck an employment agent to get a job. But Mr. Kramer was attractive, and the main thing was that she'd already visited several employment agencies that day, who'd all told her the same, discouraging thing.