Laurie signed off her computer, grabbed her purse, and headed 
towards the door.  Laurie's day at work was over, but she wasn't
looking forward to going home.  

    On her way out, Laurie stopped by the restroom to make sure 
she looked her best.  She studied her appearence in the mirror,
noting any details that may be out of place.  

    She was wearing a white corset top, with finely embroidered 
flowers on it.  It snuggly fit her 38-D chest, pushing her firm
breast upward.  Downward, she wore tight fitting black jeans,
perfectly accenting her 26-inch waist and 36-inch hips.  On her
feet she wore black platform sandals, the straps accenting the
form and shape of her foot, and drawing attention to her pedicured
toes.  The 5-inch heel brought her total height up to a glorious
6'4", taller than almost everyone she met during the day.

    As she was looking in the mirror, Laurie teased her fingers
through her silky, medium-brown hair.  She reached into her purse,
and started retouching her makeup.  First, her eyeliner, then her
mascara, and her blush.  Finally, she retouched the red of her
lipstick, completing the look of a supermodel.

    Laurie walk to her car, a black Ford Mustang convertible.  She
pulled her sunglasses out of her purse, and slid them onto her
slender face.  She then threw her purse into the passenger seat
and proceeded to drive home.

    She got many looks from guys as she drove by, all with their
mouths hanging open. She would smile back, and keep driving.  Men
staring at her have been responsible for more than a few accidents,
as they often became fixated on her instead of the road.  She
often got looks from women, too.  Some of the women showed
jealousy and hate for what they saw as a tramp, and others lust.
Laurie had grown accustomed to the looks over time, and learned
to ignore the hate while flirting with the lust.

    Laurie pulled into the driveway of what looked like a mansion,
and parked in the third space of the four-car garage.  She was the 
first one to arrive home, an event which made her happy;  she 
would be able to relax, even if it was just for a few minutes.
   
    She entered through the back basement door, which led to her
part of the house -- a full 2-bedroom apartment.  She made way for 
her bedroom, and kicked her heels off.  She had a busy day at the
studio, doing shoots for three clients that requiring her to be 
on her feet almost all day.  

    She flopped down on the bed, thinking 'Life isn't bad'.  She 
was a respected photographer, and made good money.  She was free 
to do almost anything she wanted,  but it wasn't always this way.