…Traci grabbed her belly-blouse about the waist and raised it to her collarbones. And as those heretofore-veiled body parts, which God had — in what can only be considered an act of His supreme generosity to Man — added to the female anatomy, were exposed, a pair of neon-green, star-shaped censor bars appeared on each of the milky breasts.


The stars were at once larger in circumference to her nipples and smaller than that of the breast itself — leaving only an iris of voloptuous bosom. Though the considerable girth of her breasts (the very same girth that had planted in me the hope that she reveal them in the first place) made it quite impossible for Traci to view the fronts of the obtrusive stars herself, a third person could read, with some clarity, the description begun on her right (my left) breast, "TOO," and concluded on her left (my right), "HOT."

A simple claim, yet one full of erotic wonder: "Too hot." Too hot? Just what were the forbidden pleasures cloaked behind those cursed stars, whose tantalizing words stung like the refusal of some schoolyard scoundrel to share with his playmates the glossy, soft-lit centerfolds of a late-80s pornographic periodical smuggled from his father's sock drawer, that had been deemed "too hot" for the post-broadcast netherworld of 4 a.m. E! programming? 

I may never know.