“Oh my, I didn’t feel anything at all, I thought I got away with it” said Fallon peering under her raised arm. “Let’s get this shirt off you...” Leila wetted a pad in the sink and applied it to the cut to soften the dried blood. Fallon shucked the shirt off her shoulders and let Leila peel the stuck cotton carefully away from the gash. Letting the shirt fall to the floor, Leila carefully hoisted Fallon’s sports bra up and over her head, freeing her round, firm breasts at the same time. “Mmmmmm,”. She’d been on a few British sketch shows, hired to stand there and look pretty while the so-called comedians made lewd remarks about her ample cleavage. She’d auditioned for dozens of commercials but all the casting agents wanted was for her to flash some flesh. The phone call had been from her agent, or rather ex-agent now. Her refusal to do show more than the merest hint of cleavage had apparently led to her being branded as ‘difficult to work with’ which, her agent said, meant the calls had. More

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