I reached out and stroked her cheek – my fingers running lightly over the paint.“Put some clothes on,” I told her.“Why don’t you take yours ...ff?” she asked. “You’ll feel better this way. You’ll look better this way. Look at me. Why wouldn’t you want to look like this?”I snorted a laugh at her. “I don’t think being nude will solve my problems.”She didn’t reply to that. She stood there and leaned against the mirror and looked at me. Her face would look exactly like mine if she didn’t have that. Men would know what they wanted to see her wear for them..."come-on clothes." He understood why she did it. She wanted men to see her and get excited by her big Tits. She was BAD. She wore tops so undersized they barely fit on her. Her little AA cup bras hardly fit her tits. She was an E cup. She stood out in any crowd. Her tit flesh overhung her little bras. Breast meat overflowed every inch of the tiny cups. She knew the more she showed herself off to men, the more they wanted to get at. More

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