When I finished buttoning it up, I noticed it showed my bra to much. I took it off again. I removed my bra and put the dress back on. I looked in the ...irror. I really didn't need a bra. Even at thirty seven my tits were still perky. The dress was short. It only came to the middle of my thighs. I slipped on a pear of white panties. I took one last look in the mirror. I thought to myself. "For a mother of an eighteen year old son, I still looked good. I know my husband still likes what I look. However even she required somespecial encouragement as her dietary requirements evolved."The screen displayed the same girl again, but nowmore mature, and fleshier. She was strapped face-up to an ornate wooden table,with a small, crank-operated. funnel-topped machine mounted above her face thatappeared to be forcing food into her mouth. Apparently her special diet wasrequired of her, rather than by her."Of course, while her body develops the girl is also schooled in all the artsof the. More

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