She turned Brie to face the mirror, standing right behind her, peeking around her arm at the mirror, and slowly reached up her hands. Brie just watched, her breath speeding up a bit. Bea reached out a middle finger from each hand and laid just the pad of each finger, ever so gently, on the underside of those pendulous breasts. Just that little bit of pressure was enough to outline her breasts in their entirety, n*****s thrust out proudly, each perfect tit looking like it was sculpted by a master artisan. "Imagine the slightest breeze. How must this look as you walk? I imagine you don't go braless under this often, but does that help?"
Brie swallowed hard. "They promised it was normal," she whispered. Bea just raised a quizzical eyebrow, lowering her hands. "The sisters. The head priest is
