

Connie carries herself like a girl who barely has time to breathe. Black hair tumbles past her shoulders, brown eyes flick quick and clever. Five-five, a hundred-and-fourteen pounds, hips and waist giving her frame that taut 33-25-35 pull, nothing wasted. The little A-cups sit high and tight, nipples dark against pale skin when they show. She turned twenty-eight in eighty-seven and moves like someone already late for whatever comes next.

Connie carries herself like a girl who barely has time to breathe. Black hair tumbles past her shoulders, brown eyes flick quick and clever. Five-five, a hundred-and-fourteen pounds, hips and waist giving her frame that taut 33-25-35 pull, nothing wasted. The little A-cups sit high and tight, nipples dark against pale skin when they show. She turned twenty-eight in eighty-seven and moves like someone already late for whatever comes next.