There was another choice. She unsnapped her bra and tossed it aside, letting her big flat breasts flop out. Then she slipped the utilitarian underwear...off. This was her— white, lumpy, marked with the imprints of tight-fitting undergarments.She took the dress off its hanger and slipped it over her head, shaking and wriggling to get it on, letting it drape and find its shape again. She looked in the mirror and suddenly— her breath was taken away. The dress had looked good enough when she was in. I had packed hot dogs and a wire clothes hanger, which I dutifully unfolded in front of the group as they sat around the campfire and ate their dinners.Several of the kids commented that they wished they had thought to do the same, as I poked the end of the coat-hanger though a hot dog and stuck it into the fire.Amy laughed.“It’s not like this is his first venture into camping,” Amy noted. “He came prepared.”I offered my first cooked dog to Amy. She declined it, of course. I bit off the tip end. More

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