Jessie peeled the bra’s shoulder straps, thin ribbons of silk, to the outer curve of each shoulder, brushed them down, then reached up behind to undo the clasp. Loosening the bra, she bent forward, letting her small breasts hang pendulously to form little pointy tit-bags, while she gathered up the wispy cups into her hands.
The girl moved without a word, avoiding Paul’s fascinated gaze, moving trance-like, as in a dream, her face expressionless, blue eyes vague and distant, as though fixed on some far off place. She was disrobing for them, Paul thought, not mechanically as one might in the privacy of the bedroom; nor with the blatantly seductive moves of a stripper. For her, this ecdysiastic act was something else — a sort of presentation of the self, a ritual, done a bit remotely, but w
