A too small tank-top and "yoga pants"

When Brandi got into the bedroom was relieved at first. There was a pare of panties, a pair of yoga pants, and a pink tank top. No big deal. She's miss having a sports bra, but if she focused on lifting exercises and avoided running or pliometrics it shouldn't bother her too much.

Only, as she started to get dressed she realized everything was not quite right. The panties were a tiny thong with straps designed to go over the hips--they'd definitely be visible above the waistline of her yoga pants.

The tank top, it turned out, wasn't one of Brandi's at all. It was one of Amy's. Amy is a lot smaller than Brandi to begin with, almost a foot shorter with much A-cups to Brandi's pert Cs, and this must have been the smallest shirt Amy owned. Brandi didn't think she'd seen her in it since junior high, it probably didn't even fit the petite Asian anymore.

Brandi pulled it on, and was a little dismayed by how tightly it stretched over her breasts, showing off the outline of her aureolas. The bottom of the tank top came to half-way in between Brandi's belly button and her rib cage, and the way her breasts pushed the fabric out, there was a gap between the front of the shirt and her skin. At least, Brandi thought, they do a nice job of showing off her flat, toned abs.

The yoga pants were the worst of all. As soon as Brandi picked them up she realized that they weren't yoga pants at all. Ted must have just cut the feet off of a pair of Brandi's black nylons to make them look like yoga pants. When they were stretched over Brandi's toned legs and ass, it was completely sheer.

Well, those fuckers, Brandi thought with a slight thrill as she looked at herself in the mirror.

She walked back out to the kitchen to the whoops and cheers of her roommates.

"Ted. You're an asshole," she said, "and you, Amy, you didn't have to let him borrow your shirt" she said.

"Oh that old thing? It's nothing compared to the change of clothes I packed for you!"

Brandi rolled her eyes, slipped on her running shoes, and headed out. Briefly she thought about skipping the gym. She worked out there 6 times a week, and everyone knew her there--she planned on working there as a personal trainer when she finished school. But it felt like cheating to skip. This was a dare, after all, and whatever else Brandi might be she wasn't a quitter.