Myra stepped back to stare in the mirror briefly.
She was wearing a vintage dress with a risqué slit.
At first sight, the bottom of the dress looked like a full-pleated skirt, but it had a concealed slit that she could part, and her panties would be right there, staring whoever in the face.
She caressed the halter neckline, observing how it drew one's eyes to her full bust.
She smiled, and spun around in the dress giggling a little.
Then she hurried to the bathroom to fix her hair into thick curls. When she dropped the curling iron and stepped back, her short blond curls framed her face like she was a 60s Hollywood actress.
She moved close to the mirror again to make sure she had not over-lined her lips with the red lipstick before she exited the bathroom.
She stopped to check t
