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Show Bobbie's House of Furs 48 somehow, deserving of a prayer, whether for a bestowal of grace or protection, Angela didn't stop to think. She squeezed the metal clamps on the hanger to release the swimsuit into her hand, stepped into the bottom half, and wriggled i t over her legs. Then she rolled down the top of her underpants and carefully tucked all traces out of sight. She tied the strings of the halter top around her neck and pulled her shoulders back into an archer's bow to t ie the strings behind her. Then she bent over to f i l l the swimsuit top with the maximum fullness of her breasts-a trick that a g i r l f r i e nd had taught her. She pushed each one into place and smoothed the wrinkles in the fabric. As she straightened up, she squeezed the sides of her breasts with her arms to create a more definite cleavage. She preened in front of the three-way mirror, pursed her lips into a Marilyn Monroe pout, and fluffed her hair out at the sides. "Bobbie!" she called. She could feel her heart racing as she opened the curtain. Bobbie had two customers now. Angela stepped back to her reflection and suddenly f e l t embarrassed by the seeming acres of exposed skin. "Your body is a temple," she couldn't help thinking. "Always protect and guard i t . " Angela looked down at her temple all exposed and started to panic at the thought of parading i t in the Showboat casino. "Know ye not that your body is the temple of the Holy Ghost?" Angela's sweat glands began acting up as i f a state of national emergency had been declared, and there she stood under a circle of bare light bulbs in a yellow-beige cubicle in front of a three-way mirror, lines of wetness trickling down her body. But my temple is beautiful, she thought as she saw her reflection. cmahnHv should see this. Her upper l i p began to bead. |
