Sarah reached out and picked up a pink miniskirt. It was a very short skirt, with a frilly bit of lace on the bottom hem. Moving quickly now, Sarah assembled the only outfit she could remember how to put together. She grabbed a white crop top with a wide, deep V-neck, a red push-up bra, and a pair of strappy, four-inch heels.
A few moments later, Sarah stood in front of her mirror, examining her ensemble. She hated it. Ordinarily, she would have dressed in a modest, but still fashionable, way for an outing like this. As it was, she looked even more slutty than usual. Her bra was clearly visible through the thin fabric of her shirt, and she fidgeted with the bottom of the skirt (it barely came down to her knuckles) with one hand.
At least I have the body to pull this off, Sarah thought. She ran one hand over her toned (and exposed) midriff and fluffed her hair with the other. Well, if I'm going to look like this, I'd probably better be conservative with my makeup. I wouldn't want Lewis to get any ideas!
Sarah made her way to her desk and pulled out her makeup case. Opening it, she pondered where to start. . . and paused again as she realized that she had no idea how to choose a reasonable selection of makeup!
Not again! What's wrong with me?! Sarah thought, trying to maintain control. Her breathing was fast and shallow, and her hands shook. Why can't I do this?
Sarah put her face in her hands and sobbed.
