PAM
Holly and I are at her cute little house, both in sweats, eating ice cream and watching post-game coverage. Holly’s a bit obsessed with her job, and she runs checks on her social media feeds while making notes on how each press segment goes, how each player did in interviews. All with her big-ole belly protruding like a basketball, her tiny tank top riding up under her breasts. Breasts which, by the way, are humongous.
"Does Evan like that your tits are so big now? He must, right?"
She looks down at her chest. "He doesn't hate them, that's for sure. And they're really a lot more sensitive than they were before. So that can be fun."