.. I've got it!" She pointedto a painting on the wall. "Pose for us, Girlie. Just like that."It was an old-fashioned painting called September Morn of...a nude womanstanding timorously in a stream, her arms in front of her. Very tame bytoday's standards, but in my state of heightened arousal, it seemedincredibly titillating. Olive pulled a curly brown stretch-wig from hergym bag and placed it on my head, then had me stand next to the tub,facing away, posed just like the woman in the picture,. I looked at what she had hung on my hand. It was a white poet's blouse with a ruffled collar and long sleeves ending in a double ruffle at the wrist, along with a denim, button front crinkle skirt. A lacy, thong bodysuit hung from the third hanger. It was white, too. My jaw dropped to the floor at the same time my heart leapt to my throat. She stood in front of me, arms crossed and legs wide, an expectant look on her face. "Put them on." I hesitated and tried to say anything that would change. More

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