"Now the hair," she breathed, pulling the big bobby pins out. The blond curls tumbled free, waterfalling over her shoulders and down her back. One long hank tickled a breast and she didn't move it. "My sister actually let that guy feel her up. She let him put his hands all over her."

Brenda turned. She had no idea whether her body might be attractive to a man. She wasn't really very old. Her legs were long and well-proportioned. Her hips not overly wide but full enough to give her waist the appearance of being very small. Her bottom was firm and pleasantly rounded. And then there were her breasts. They could only be called large. Large but not sagging. The areolas were darker than the surrounding flesh and the nipples even darker than that. That was why she always wore baggy shirts. Because her father disapproved of her exhibiting herself in any way. And just to wear a well-fitting dress would be exhibiting her tits. They were big alright. And with her natural curviness, the delicate build of her shoulders and neck, her breasts seemed even more magnificent.

Completely naked except for a silver locket at her neck, Brenda strolled to the phonograph and turned the record over. She danced by the rack of old clothes now, her fingers brushing silky garments and velvet ones too. She chose a black lace gown and let it fall over her shoulders. Somehow wearing that made her feel even more naked than nakedness itself. She caressed the smooth swells of her ass as she turned before the mirror again. Her long blond hair was a striking contrast to the black lace. Her white ankles flashed sexily from under the hem. Again she thought of how it must have felt to her young sister to feel that boy's fingers against her cunt. Had Gil actually touched Annie? Flesh to flesh? The way Annie had been carrying on, Brenda guessed that he had.