I stand in the dressing room in just my panties, holding up a sexy lace bra. It’s entirely see through, leaving nothing to the imagination. It wasn’t something I had selected for myself. Donna never held it up for me to nod or shake my head. Yet here it is, all the same, mixed among my piles and piles of potential clothes.
Perhaps Neil selected it? No. I squash that thought right away. More likely Donna assumed I needed something and would be too embarrassed to ask for it.
She’s probably right.
I pull on the bra, but it doesn’t have the regular kind of clasp. There are straps and fasteners and I’m terribly confused by the whole thing. I finally fit it over my breasts but it feels terribly tight in the arms. Maybe all the straps aren’t supposed to go over the shoulder? I have no idea.
I
