How to increase your slap on best fiends forever

#How to increase your slap on best fiends forever skin#

Nineteen years old, six feet two inches tall, long of bone and hard of muscle, with sunburned faces and deep auburn hair, their eyes merry and arrogant, their bodies clothed in identical blue coats and mustard-colored breeches, they were as much alike as two bolls of cotton. On either side of her, the twins lounged easily in their chairs, squinting at the sunlight through tall mint-garnished glasses as they laughed and talked, their long legs, booted to the knee and thick with saddle muscles, crossed negligently. Her manners had been imposed upon her by her motherвЂ™s gentle admonitions and the sterner discipline of her mammy her eyes were her own. The green eyes in the carefully sweet face were turbulent, willful, lusty with life, distinctly at variance with her decorous demeanor. But for all the modesty of her spreading skirts, the demureness of hair netted smoothly into a chignon and the quietness of small white hands folded in her lap, her true self was poorly concealed. The dress set off to perfection the seventeen-inch waist, the smallest in three counties, and the tightly fitting basque showed breasts well matured for her sixteen years. Her new green flowered-muslin dress spread its twelve yards of billowing material over her hoops and exactly matched the flat-heeled green morocco slippers her father had recently brought her from Atlanta. Seated with Stuart and Brent Tarleton in the cool shade of the porch of Tara, her fatherвЂ™s plantation, that bright April afternoon of 1861, she made a pretty picture.

#How to increase your slap on best fiends forever skin#

Above them, her thick black brows slanted upward, cutting a startling oblique line in her magnolia-white skin-that skin so prized by Southern women and so carefully guarded with bonnets, veils and mittens against hot Georgia suns. Her eyes were pale green without a touch of hazel, starred with bristly black lashes and slightly tilted at the ends. But it was an arresting face, pointed of chin, square of jaw. In her face were too sharply blended the delicate features of her mother, a Coast aristocrat of French descent, and the heavy ones of her florid Irish father. Scarlett OвЂ™Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were.