Sheerer and sheerer.

As she looked closely at her reflection she was alarmed to see just how much of her nipple outline could be seen through the harsh lighting in the schools restroom.

This caused her to once again blush crimson. This must be one of her older shirts she reasoned to herself, just worn a bit thin. Just a bad angle. Yet even as she tried to convince herself of that fact and lamented the warm weather and her lack of a blazer.

As her face continued to flush red she could have sworn she felt the tickling of fabric moving up her leg. Almost like a phantom phone vibration. She smuthered down her skirt that she could have sworn was considerably less wrickled and a bit longer when she left the house.