Take from her top half

She feels the first probing tugs at her bra and decides to give in. Raising her arms, she lets you slip it over her head, ripping it off the other arm, and fling it into the beyond. She's left standing with her hand on her hips, looking strangely nonchalant.

The tan of her naked torso is interrupted by a bikini shape; a milk chocolate smear in a sea of caramel flowing over two very perky breasts. She runs her thumb around the inside of her waistline, lowering her shorts down slightly and making it very clear her racing stripes are in all the important places.

This isn't a new game to her. The supernatural part is new, but she is still in her element compared to the other two. With a spring in her step, she hops back down onto her chair, making full use of her newfound bounciness. If she wants any hope of wining, she realises she'll need to make friends in high places, or some very low ones, as the case may be.

"Any 'I's?"

No.