As we finished up our morning trek, I was about to internally ignite from the stifling humidity and my waning estrogen. I yanked down my zipped tank to air out the fiery biscuits when hubby shot out his arm in a Seinfeld
stopped-short-move to shield the girls.
You know I can go topless I retorted, like that sweaty, middle-aged well-upholstered hairy guy that just ran by us.
And I thought to myself, I wonder what it would be like to go about my business in this world, half-naked and confident with no fear of being objectified, debased or assaulted.
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