Get that wet shirt off

"Ooh Lauren, you're shirt is totally soaked!" Danielle sided up to her while Lauren hid her chest.

"Sorry, I didn't realize how bad I sprayed you." Danielle apologized, though her grin betrayed any genuine sympathy.

"It's fine." Lauren growled through gritted teeth.

"No, it's not." Danielle went on. "You'll catch a cold working in a soaking wet shirt. We'll have to get that off of you."

"Get... what do you... EEK!" Lauren squealed as Danielle grabbed the hem of her shirt from behind and yanked up. The shirt was pulled over her head, blinding her for a moment before sliding off her torso and arms. Lauren was topless!

Lauren, now totally flustered, slapped her palms over her minuscule mound as the restaurant laughed even harder at her predicament.

"Give me my top!" Lauren squealed, voice cracking as her cheeks turned red.

"Don't worry, I'll put it somewhere to dry." Danielle explained.

"I can't work topless!" Lauren screamed in horror, feeling utterly exposed in nothing but baggy pajama bottoms...