Chapter 27

July 19, 2017

Dear Ms. Diary,

[Written July 20, 2017]

Much of practice was devoted to refreshing team memory about dealing with Charlize Sanderson and FC Grass Valley in tomorrow’s game. Rhee, Heather, and I walked back to my house after practice. I barely had the front door closed when Rhee and Heather began stripping. I grinned but turned to my right and headed up the stairs to the shower and began removing my clothes. Heather and Rhee were not far behind me, though Heather had to deposit her gym bag in our room.

I had the water streams to the perfect temperature and was stepping in when the other two arrived.

“You’re showering with us, Heather?”

“Absolutely! That’s nowhere near the odd thing I thought when I was here the first time. I’ve actually been looking forward to this for a couple of days!”

Rhee came in the shower door and closed it, then encircled me with her arms and planted her lips on mine; I mirrored her. We were, perhaps, 15 seconds into the kiss, a scorching kiss, when I felt a hand on my ass. Since Rhee’s arms were under mine with her hands on my shoulders holding me tight to her, I knew that the hand on my ass was Heather’s. That hand roamed around a bit – my ass was in the water stream – then started pushing between my thighs. I kept the kiss with Rhee going but moved my left foot a bit farther to the left in order to open a space between my thighs. Oddly, Rhee did the same, but, fortunately, with her right foot. Of course, Heather was on the other side of us, so I guess that it’s not surprising that we moved in the same absolute direction.

Rhee moaned in my mouth at the same time that Heather’s hand reached my pussy. I assumed, and was right, that Heather was doing both of us. Rhee and I finished our kiss, so I took the opportunity to look to my left at Heather.

When she saw me looking at her, she said, “You two are so hot! And so obviously into each other!”

I pulled my right arm from behind Rhee’s back and slid it along Heather’s torso and back far enough that I could put it around Heather and then stepped back a bit with my right foot, opening a space for Heather. Rhee responded by mirroring me, and we pulled Heather into a three-way hug. I leaned over a bit and kissed Heather (she’s about four inches shorter), inserting my tongue between her lips. Heather managed to maintain a super-charged kiss with me and keep on with the gentle fondling of my pussy lips and, I confirmed later, Rhee’s.

Rhee and I took turns kissing Heather until Rhee said excitedly, “Beth, I think that you and I need to bathe Heather.”

“Agreed.”

Rhee grabbed the shampoo, poured some in her hand, then held that hand out to me. I grabbed some and then we lathered Heather’s head. It didn’t take long, as her hair is fairly short.

“Ohhhh. God, that is so-o-o goo-ood.”

Rhee and I took sides; I washed Heather’s right side, paying particular attention, as did Rhee, to her tit, ass cheek, and pussy. We each washed her twice, once each heading from head to toe, and toe to head. Heather and I then washed Rhee, and Rhee and Heather washed me. When we stepped out of the shower, I was tingling, yet relaxed.

“So, what do we want to do,” Heather asked. “Well, other than lunch, what do we want to do? I’m starving.”

“We could go for an ice cream after lunch,” tendered Rhee.

Heather responded, “I’m up for that. Whaddaya think, Beth?”

While I responded with “Sounds like a plan to me.” I was thinking that this new, more-confident Heather was really nice. “Now, what do we want for lunch?”

As we could not think of anything interesting, we had sandwiches, then went upstairs to get dressed for the jaunt to the ice-cream parlor.

“Beth, I think that you should wear those shorts. You know, those short shorts,” Rhee said.

My face heated just in time for Heather to swing her focus to me. Her eyebrows rose in surprise, then she turned to Rhee.

“What’s that all about? Beth is red.”

“Oh, she’s got this pair of shorts whose ‘legs’ [yes, air quotes were used] are, maybe, three inches long. Maybe. And you can just imagine how those legs of hers look in them. She...”

I interrupted. “That’s not important.”

“Oh, yes, it is. Anyway, Heather. Apparently, she wasn’t thinking straight one time in June when Gracey and Liya came to pick her up and go to the mall. She got into the car wearing these ... shorts and Liya took the mickey out of her. Uh, that is, teased her. Sorry, Brit father.

“Anyway, she says that she’d never worn them ‘in public’ [more air quotes] previously and hadn’t intended to wear them that day. I’ve since seen her in them. ‘Sizzling’ is an understatement.”

Despite Heather’s grin in response, I said, “Okay, smart Rhee. If you... and Heather wear something like that, then I’ll do it. Otherwise, nope.”

“Awww. But you look so delectable in those.”

“You just want something there to get all those eyes off your boobs.”

Rhee just smiled and shrugged her shoulders at me. We dressed and headed out. The next-door neighbor to our house’s right waved at us.

“Hi, Beth. Hi, Rhee. Who’s your friend?”

“Hi Mr. Jacobsen. This is Heather Wilkerson. Heather, I’d like to introduce Mr. Jacobsen. Heather is our soccer team’s newest sensation.”

“Oh. I like the blush, Heather. You’re not a sensation? I’d bet you are and that you’re shy about attention. Well, despite that it may cause you to blush again, I think that your freckles are also a sensation. In my day, they’d have been ‘groovy.’ Nowadays, what would it be, Beth?”

“‘Lit’ might work best.”

“Thank you. Heather, I apologize for embarrassing you, but I, like a lot of males, find freckles wonderful. Oddly, I don’t know that I’ve found a single girl or woman who has them that thinks the same. My Harry, that is, my wife, Harriet, thought that they were atrocious when I met her. She still has a few freckles and I still love them. So, don’t think poorly of them. If I am any judge, freckles attract only the best, most-discerning of males.”

Mr. Jacobsen then cracked what my dad would call a “shit-eating grin.”

“Thank you, Mr. Jacobsen. Rhee’s mom said something similar. Not about discernment, but about guys liking them. However, it’s obvious that discernment is not involved here, because you’re obviously a bad boy, trying to make an innocent young girl blush.”

“Oh, ho, so that’s how it is, is it?” He turned to me and continued. “She’s got wit, I see. Beth, where do you find all these smart girls? I’d trade all of my granddaughters for even one of them. I don’t know what happened to Harry’s wit and sense of humor, but neither got passed down the line.

“Anyway, Heather, it was nice to meet you, and I’m sure that there’s a very nice guy with loads of discernment waiting in your future. Don’t settle too soon. We males of discernment are few and far between.”

He then again presented that huge grin at Heather, along with sparkling blue eyes ... which were met by another set of sparkling blue eyes and a wide grin.

“Thanks. If you were in my future, I’d certainly wait for you. You’re the high point of a day that has already been quite good, mainly because I’ve been sharing it with my two best friends. However, you might get knocked off your perch soon, as we have ice cream in our immediate future.”

“My, my. You are a quick one. Have a pleasant day, all of you, and enjoy your ice cream.”

We turned away to continue toward that ice cream, Mr. Jacobsen called me back after a few steps.

“Beth, could I ask you to pass a message to your dad?”

I walked back to him. “Sure.”

In a quieter voice, he asked, “Is Heather the one that your dad mentioned the other day, the one that might have a brilliant mind?”

I nodded.

“I thought as much. She definitely has a very agile mind. Please tell your dad that if he needs any help on Heather’s behalf, to get in touch. My experience with prodigies at the university might be of assistance. Also, please tell Charlie that Harry and I will be going sometime in the next two weeks to visit Amanda’s gang, that’s my son’s daughter. I’m not yet sure when we leave and definitely don’t know how long we’ll be gone, as we’ll probably tack a few other targets of opportunity onto the trip.”

“I will, Mr. Jacobsen. On Heather’s behalf, thanks.”

I got the expected question, from Rhee, when I returned to my friends.

“What was that about?”

“He wanted me to ask Dad to get in touch with him. They’re going away in a few weeks and we usually check up on their house when they’re gone.”

After our ice-cream run, we wandered around the shopping area for a while, window shopping mostly, until we got to Second Chance Wear, a used-clothing store. The three of us wandered around, collectively and individually for a while. I found a really short velour crop-top shirt in emerald green that I thought would fit Heather, though it would be snug. It was only a couple dollars, so I grabbed it. I found another for Rhee – a modified university shirt that wasn’t quite so short. I rejoined the others as they were discussing a hot pink bikini.

“But, Rhee, you’d rock it.”

“Where would I wear it? I can just see wearing it to the city pool; I’d get groped in the water. Besides, various parts would be half hanging out of it.”

I said, “I agree. You would rock it, Rhee. You probably would be hanging out of it, although not much. You’d certainly have less hanging out than on some suits I’ve seen there. It seems, anymore, that having half your ass showing is normal and that thing wouldn’t show more than, I don’t know, a quarter of your ass. You would get a lot of attention, though, with the visible underboob, if I’m gauging that thing correctly.”

“Oh, you’re a lot of help, Beth.”

Heather’s face was highlighted by a huge grin and those sparkling blue eyes. “You should at least try it on,” she said.

I grinned at Rhee, who rolled her eyes. I paid for the two shirts and we headed back to the house. Heather started stripping even before the front door was closed.

“We’ve got time, right,” she asked, as her shirt cleared her head.

“Yeah, probably a couple hours,” I answered as I headed upstairs, and began disrobing when I got to the bedroom.

Heather and Rhee joined me about a minute later, carrying their clothes.

“Ah, you two seem to need some clothing. These are for you, my lovers.” I handed Rhee the uni shirt and kissed her lips. I did the same with the green shirt and Heather’s lips. “I’d really like to see how they fit.”

Rhee had hers on in a flash, the hem falling midway between her belly button and her 36C breasts, the material not quite touching her belly below her tits. I reached under the shirt and caressed her left boob. “Ooh, I like the easy access.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that I’ll be wearing this braless in ... Oh, my god. Heather, that’s sexy!”

I turned to look at Heather, who had donned her shirt. As I expected, it came to an end only a couple inches below her breasts. The tightness of the shirt, though, molded it to her tits, accentuating and clearly defining her small mounds.

“Sexy? Me?”

“Oh, my god, yes,” I answered. “I thought that you would make it look good, but I didn’t expect it to be this ... incredible, this sexy.”

“Hell,” Rhee said, “we need to get you a pair of tight white shorts, short white shorts to show off those legs, and you’ll have the boys ... and men ... and me...” she glanced at me, “and Beth ... salivating!”

Rhee then reached out a hand and felt Heather’s breasts through the material. “God, I want you. Now.”

With that, Rhee tackled her onto the bed, Heather on her back, Rhee on her left side, left leg draped over Heather’s. She rubbed her left hand back and forth over Heather’s velour-covered breasts as she bent her head and kissed Heather’s face.

I thought to join in but decided to see what Rhee wanted to do. I was right to wait, as Rhee rolled up and straddled Heather’s hips. She then quickly removed her own shirt, bent over, planted her mouth on Heather’s, and began rubbing her tits on Heather’s chest. After about a minute like that, which already had Heather moaning, Rhee clinched Heather and rolled them both over, then glanced up at me with something of a pleading look that I took as an invitation.

I watched a little longer with an eye toward figuring out where and how I could be useful. Heather, while her mouth was locked in a fierce tongue battle with Rhee, was rubbing her shirt-covered chest on Rhee’s naked chest. Rhee’s hands were caressing and squeezing Heather’s ass cheeks with vigor, which caused her pelvis to rock enough that I could see Heather’s pussy at the top of the arc. Though Heather’s legs were spread a bit, Rhee’s legs were outside Heather’s, so I’m sure that the rocking also provided for some beneficial action there. I now had a plan.

I knelt on the bed straddling Heather’s right leg and Rhee’s left leg. I put my hands on Heather’s back and leaned into them a bit so that I was rubbing her briskly, figuring that it might increase the tension on their tits. When Heather began moaning again, I leaned back and took my hands off her and directed one to each of their pussies. I fumbled around a bit, trying to find the important real estate. That wasn’t comfortable for me, so I turned a quarter turn to my left and brought my left knee out from between their legs and planted both knees against Rhee’s left thigh.

I moved my left hand back to Rhee’s pussy and slid two fingers into her, under-handed. I moved my right hand down Heather’s ass, palm down, and caressed her anus and perineum for a bit, then extended two fingers to her pussy and slid them into her rocking vagina.

Heather arched her back, raised her head, and gave out a long, breathy “ahhhh-ohhhh.” However, she quickly lowered her head to re-engage their mouths, while I slowly pistoned a set of two fingers into each of two pussies. I managed to put my left thumb at the top of Rhee’s slit to provide some direct action to her clitoris. Although the architecture did not permit me to do the same for Heather with my right thumb, my left thumb’s placement on Rhee’s clit meant that Heather’s clit would rub against it most times when her pelvis’s arching motion brought it nearby. At least, that’s what it felt like ... and sounded like, as Heather would moan or whimper nearly every time her pelvis impacted my thumb.

I was really amped. Rhee and Heather, though, were even more so, for after only another minute or so, they both started climbing the Stairway. As they reached their crescendo, Rhee slightly before Heather, I turned all of my attention to sussing when my actions would be too much for them and first slowed, then stopped my fingers’ movements as my two lovers came down from on high.

I heard the garage door going shortly after I’d extracted my fingers from the two pussies. The others were still mostly out of it, so I stood up and closed the bedroom door. I noted that it was only 2:30. Neither Dad nor Mom were regularly home this early, but Dad is far-and-away more likely to be home this early than is Mom. I donned shorts and a T and snuck out to see for myself.

As I walked in the kitchen, I said, “Hi, Dad. You’re home early.”

He turned from the sink and responded, “Yeah, I’m feeling poorly, so came home since Viraj, one of my grad students, had to cancel our meeting this afternoon.”

I walked to him and wrapped him in my arms. “Hopefully, you’re not too ill to come to our game tomorrow. We could use the moral support.”

“Hah! With the new offense, and that new right wing, I think that you won’t have much problem with Grass Valley. And I’ll probably be fine. By the way, is Heather here? I met with Ms. Robb about Heather and I have at least something to tell her.”

“Yeah, she’s...”

I stopped, as I could hear them coming down the stairs, their voices preceding them.

“Hey, Dad! To what do we the owe the pleasure of your company,” queried Rhee as she approached. I saw that neither of them was wearing the shirts I got them. Understandable.

“Well, I was feeling poorly at school, so came home. Now, with the presence of you three lovely ladies, I feel much better.”

“Well, if you didn’t have work and a wife, you could run off with us,” Rhee said as she muscled into Dad’s arms with me.

“Should I call and make a bus reservation?”

“Oh, no. While a bus would be right in my station, I think that we’ll need a pumpkin and some mice, because I’m pretty sure that running away with Prince Charming requires a coach and four,” quipped Heather as she wormed her way into the group hug.

“I’ll beat Rhee to it: Girl! You never cease to amaze me with your knowledge and wit. While many girls your age know about Cinderella and Prince Charming, I doubt that there are all that many that know the term ‘coach and four’ and even fewer that could correctly use it in a sentence.”

Somewhat bashfully, Heather replied, “Thanks, Dad.”

I volunteered, “I don’t know the term, but, given the Cinderella context, I surmise that it means a coach, or carriage, and four horses. Yes?”

After Dad answered in the affirmative, Rhee said, “Beth, I’m glad you asked, ‘cause I didn’t want to seem like a null. Heather, where do you learn all this stuff that you know?”

Heather ducked her head into Dad’s chest. She took a couple of deep breaths, lifted her head, and responded. “Before you two plucked me out of the hoi polloi, I went to the library whenever I could get away from the house. I’ve literally spent 1000s of hours at various libraries. It was my escape and I read ... well, anything that struck my fancy.”

“Hold that thought, Heather,” interjected Dad. “I didn’t want to introduce this until we could get the two moms here, but you just provided a perfect entré. Let’s sit at the table.”

Dad then unwrapped his arms from us and went to his chair. Rhee and I each grabbed our respective seats on the right side, while Heather sat in Mom’s seat to Dad’s left.

“Wait, let me see if or when Carol and Sandy can get here. In fact, that seems a good idea. We could have an impromptu gathering of the clans for dinner tonight.” He pulled out his phone and began tapping out a text.

“Does anyone else want a drink,” I asked.

Heather jumped up from her chair and said, “Whatever. I’ll help.”

“How does lemonade sound?” When she nodded, I said, “If you want to get the lemonade out of the fridge, I’ll get glasses.”

As I was bringing the glasses to the table, I saw Dad looking at me with an odd expression.

“Have I seen those shorts before, Beth?”

Rhee just about lost it laughing. I looked down, saw what I was wearing, and my face flushed.

“Oh,” said Heather, “are those the infamous shorts? I can certainly see why Beth doesn’t wear them in public and why Liya gave her a hard time.”

As I looked back up, Dad’s head was swiveling between Rhee, still laughing, and Heather.

“Obviously, there’s a story. Given how ... umm ... wonderful you make those shorts look, I can divine a vague outline of the story. I suspect, though, that I won’t get the full impact of the story from Beth. Since you seem the one in the know, Rhee, I ask you. What’s the tale?”

As I started to interject, Rhee said, “Nuh-uh, Beth. Dad’s right. You wouldn’t possibly tell it appropriately.”

I sat and hung my head as Rhee went into far too much detail, including not only the original story, but also a synopsis of Liya telling Rhee the story and ended with the story of Rhee and me going to Safeway.

“ ... and as I turned to look at him as we left the aisle, he was looking at her butt and legs in those... ‘shorts.’ And I didn’t blame him. With her legs ... those shorts are almost a felony waiting to happen.”

I thought that she was going to say more, but then she got that “what a great idea” look and turned to Heather.

“Come with me,” she said, and proceeded to lead Heather back upstairs at a run.

I had a pretty good idea of what her “bright idea” was and closed my eyes and shook my head.

“What is it, Beth?”

“Oh, something that I said earlier today is going to come back to haunt me. At least, that’s what I think Rhee’s ‘bright-idea’ look was about. And the worst of it is, is that I brought it on myself. I even bought the shirts.”

Dad gave me a confused look and seemed like he was going to ask what the hell I was talking about, but I simply put up the stop sign, as I could hear Rhee pounding back down the stairs. I didn’t have to turn around to confirm my fear, as Dad’s facial expression did that for me. His jaw didn’t quite drop, but his eyes and nostrils flared. Even the incoming-text sound of his phone didn’t distract his attention on, yes, Rhee and Heather wearing the shirts I’d bought them. Rhee had even removed the bra that she’d been wearing down here earlier. The three of us must have looked like we were in the under-age wing of the prostitute’s cell in the jail.

“Ohhhhh ... my,” was all he said as the two of them returned to their chairs.

“Umm, excuse me, ladies. I don’t mean to be a boor, so please forgive my staring. In my defense, those shirts look ... uhh ... incredible on you.” His head then swiveled to me. “So, you bought those shirts ... for them, I suppose? And where did you get that, and I’ll channel Liya here, clothing item that is too brief for the term ‘shorts?’”

With my head hung low and my face, no doubt, blazing red, I answered, “The same place, Second Chance Wear. I bought the shorts a couple years ago, before my growth spurt. They didn’t look quite as ... uh ... obscene as they do now.”

“No! They are not obscene! Just because you make them look sexy as hell does not mean that they’re obscene. Nothing untoward shows, so buck up, quit being embarrassed, and revel in those wonderful legs of yours, girl! Look. Even Heather is sitting here rocking that crop top without going all scarlet. Well, she was sitting here without going scarlet. Beth, you’re going to have to accept that you are a pretty and very sexy young woman. I’m sure that Dad agrees, though he might phrase things more ... delicately.”

I looked up and to my right at Rhee; then looked at Heather across the table, who was a bit pink-faced; and then at Dad.

“Cupcake ... Beth, she’s right. You are one of three very attractive young women sitting in my kitchen. They’re all quite different from each other, but they’re also all very ... uhh ... okay, I’ll say it ... sexy. I know that your mother has told you the same on any number of occasions and she meant it. You were always a cute little girl, but in the past couple of years, you’ve grown into a beautiful and elegant young woman. Don’t hide from it. But, also, don’t let it be who you are. Who you are, the you that lives inside that very attractive covering, is even more beautiful, and that is the more-important facet of Beth Williams. Don’t be embarrassed by compliments. Don’t ever get to the point at which you think that you are perforce due those compliments, but don’t be embarrassed by them.”

I couldn’t help it. My eyes started leaking. “Daddy,” I whimpered, then stood and forced my way onto his lap, buried my head under his chin, and let the tears roll onto Dad’s shirt, his arms around me.

Probably only seconds after I tucked into Dad’s lap, I felt other hands on my head and back, and then I was enveloped in four more arms.

Okay. So, I’ve been told that I’m pretty and sexy by my mom, all four of my best friends, and, now, my dad. I thought furiously while I tried to quit crying. “Why am I crying,” I asked myself. Is it so bad to be attractive? Dad’s caution came back to me and I parsed it. From my analysis, I inferred that he was telling me that, no matter how physically attractive I am – or anyone is, it is more important to be personally attractive; that is, mentally attractive, attractive for who I am, not for my appearance.

That brought my mind to Bradley. The Bradley with the oh-so-pretty exterior and the oh-so-ugly interior. Yeah, I can fully understand Dad’s point using Bradley as an example. Is Bradley at least part of the reason that I have renounced attractiveness for myself? That, despite my knowing Dad, a male with an oh-so-pretty exterior but with an ungodly-beautiful interior, I felt that physical attractiveness was a bad thing? I see the point. While physical attractiveness can open doors, it is internal beauty that keeps them open.

My external senses slowly made me aware that I was no longer crying and that I was being cooed over. Did I just retreat into little-girl-crying-in-Daddy’s-lap safety because I was being made to know that I am pretty? How backward is that?! Now I’m embarrassed again, but I guess I should be moving on.

“I’m sorry Dad, Rhee, Heather. I was crying like a little girl, looking for safety from the names thrown at me by peers. How ridiculous can I get?”

That very nice, new-and-improved Heather that I liked so much dug in the last knife.

“No! You’re not ridiculous. All of us feel overwhelmed by the changes that we go through at this age. I vividly recall way back when three weeks ago the first day that I spent with you. I recall crying many times and you always comforted me. In fact, I recall falling asleep that night as you held me because, once again, I was crying. Dad is right. For that day alone, I would have loved you regardless of whether you were physically beautiful or ugly. Your inner beauty showed through and made my life better. It is not a burden at all to comfort you.”

“What she said, Beth. I’m in the exact same boat, though my crying jags are a couple years in the past.”

I sat up straight, though still in Dad’s lap. “Thanks, Heather, Rhee. Thanks, Dad. I think I’ve got it, now. However, Dad, your lap has always been my resort of safety. Thanks for such a wonderful lap. I hope that I don’t need it anymore, but I hope that it’s always there just in case.”

“Cupcake, it is always here for you, and it is also here for my other daughters. You haven’t used it in quite a while. While it is very good to be strong, no one can be strong at all times and in all situations. It is more important to know your limitations, and where and how they might impact your life or plans. Not to cause you further embarrassment, but I am a very proud father that really likes the wonderfully beautiful person that is Beth Williams.”

It was a close-run thing. I almost began crying, again. I had to breathe deeply a few times, but I staved it off.

“Thanks, Dad. You are the best.” I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, then clambered off his lap.

As we three girls drifted back to our chairs, Dad asked, “So, what’s the rest of the story?”

I don’t know about Rhee, but I looked at Dad with incomprehension. What is Dad talking about? Heather, however, jumped right in.

“After we got home ... that is, here, from practice and had lunch, we decided that we’d go get an ice cream. Rhee suggested that Beth wear those shorts. She said that she would do that only if Rhee and I each wore something that was as ... sexy. Since we didn’t have such things with us, we went wearing ... uh ... regular clothes. Beth found and bought the shirts, then gave them to us when we got back home, uh, here.”

Dad guffawed. When he wound down, he explained.

“Isn’t it amazing how the mind works? I’ll bet that Beth did not fully realize why she was getting those shirts for you. I’ll bet that she simply knew that you two would make the individual shirts look good. It may be that she was uncomfortable being sexy, but she wanted to be sexy. Of course, she couldn’t be the only sexy one among you three, so she just happened to find the precise shirts that would exude sexiness on your two, very-different bodies.

“For Heather and her pale complexion, she chose the single best color that she could have found. And, instead of highlighting her long, shapely legs, something that Beth was highlighting, herself, in those ‘shorts,’ she found a tight, very short crop top that would highlight, please excuse my directness, Heather’s ... uh ... the ... uh ... perfect shape of her small breasts. The extreme crop would add to the highlighting effect, so as to nearly isolate those breasts and force all eyes to look at them.”

Heather colored quite magnificently at that.

“For Rhee, whose bust is toward the other end of the scale from Heather’s, Beth found a shirt that would ostensibly hide her breasts’ shape, as the shirt does not have enough length to get back to her torso. However, by the very act of hiding the shape in a nebulous covering, she again found a shirt that would highlight it, nonetheless.

“So, long legs in incredibly short shorts book-ended by perfectly shaped little breasts on virtual display and relatively large breasts ostensibly hidden, but because there is air between shirt and belly, and, being bra-less as she is now, everyone would know that they are almost available for ogling. You three should never, ever wear those clothes into any situation that is even remotely dicey. I’m your father, real and imaginary, and I think that you three are incredibly sexy and those clothes simply hit men over the head with that fact.