Yes

Your face is burning already with the humiliation of this, but you don't feel you have a choice. Every penny counts if you're going to get to five grand by Friday. You're already thinking of skipping meals to save money. And deep down, you knew you were going to have to do some terrible things.

"Ok," you whisper.

Jeff's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He clearly expected you to say no, but he seems delighted to have been surprised. "Well then let's see 'em." He laughs and slides the twenty across his desk towards you.

Your fingers are trembling again as you start to unbutton your checked blouse, tugging it out of your waistband first then opening it from the top on down. You let your head hang down, your thick, lustrous hair covering your blushing, burning face as you unbutton your shirt and let it hang open. Fuck! What are you DOING? What kind of slut are you? Jeff doesn't say anything as the cups of your white lace bra appear between the curtains of your blouse. Your full, heavy breasts strain against the restriction as always, and you realize that he'll be the first man to see them since your last boyfriend six months ago.

Without taking it off you reach inside your blouse and behind your torso to pop open the clasp of your bra. It sags a little away from your body, straight away, and your breasts relax and push it out. They're still firm and young, your breasts, and they don't sag at all. In fact you suppose you have the kind of natural 'rack' that most girls would kill for. This is the first time you're going to have profited from them though.

You close your eyes and bit your lip, still hiding behind your hair, and pull the bra down so that the shoulder-straps slide down a little inside your shirt, and the bra is pulled down and away from your breasts. Your now bare breasts, that you're taking money to expose.

"Open the blouse more," Jeff says, and you obey. This is what he's paying for after all. "Fuck, that's nice. Just as dark and perky as I thought, those nipples." Perky in the cool air of the stockroom, you think. Nothing to do with the situation. "Now c'mon. Head up, Holly. You can't hide if you're thinking about being a stripper! Show me that pretty face."

To raise your chin and brush back your flowing hair seems to take even more will-power than baring your tits did. It's because now he's going to know it's you. It sounds stupid, but now he's going to be able to see your face and your naked breasts, and... fuck, he'll probably imagine them every time he sees you on the shop floor.

But the money...

You lift your head, and brush back your hair, looking at him with your lower lip almost imperceptibly trembling. You catch a glimpse of your own pale skin as you look up. Your pale skin and your dark nipples and the familiar curves of your own, large breasts. They seem wrong, embarrassing in this familiar stockroom.

"You're bright red," Jeff chuckles. "Nothing to be ashamed of, Holly. Those are the finest fucking tits I've ever seen." You don't thank him. Your heart is hammering, and you feel like you might die of shame at any moment. "That's yours," he points at the twenty, "And there's another twenty if you let me touch them." He slides the note out of his wallet slowly and watches your eyes widen.