“Good!” she encouraged me. “Now, last one: hands on hips …,” we both did it, staring straight ahead. “… and flex your chest. And you’r... looking for the same thing – puckering or dimpling – as your breasts move.” I watched her do it first, her breasts lifting slightly and minutely closing together. I copied her, but I work my traps pretty hard with barbell shrugs, and my breasts leaped up so hard they bounced, closing together almost to the point of forming cleavage. “Holy cripes!” Susan. He was as still as a statue, trying to work up the nerve and the courage to throw the nail and be rid of it. Yet no matter how strong his will, his body would not obey his commands. In fact, with his own body resisting him, fear was building in his heart. This fear was familiar to everyone, the fear of being about to commit a death-defying stunt. This was the fear that held you in place instead of jumping off a cliff or into a lake, the fear that kept you from letting go of the swing as a child. More

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