Getting Chills
17 June 2021
Michelle De Feo stands square in front of a red-brick fireplace, a white snap-front sports bra with silver stud closures tight across her chest and black faux-leather leggings gleaming like wet paint from waist to ankle. Pointed black heels dig into the cream carpet, and her dark hair falls in a long, straight sheet that almost reaches the leather at her hips. A heavy oak beam spans the mantel behind her, a wicker log basket sits to one side, and the room has the quiet, after-hours hush of an English country house in winter. Getting Chills might refer to the season, but the look in Michelle's hazel eyes suggests she plans to generate her own heat.
She turns and the leather leggings earn every syllable of the title, moulded to the tight, compact shape of her bum as she glances back over one shoulder with the white bra still in place. Later she perches on the arm of a cream chair, the bra gone, her slim torso bare and her surprisingly generous breasts catching the fireplace shadow, one hand at her chin, the other on her thigh. In the final frame she stands before the brickwork with her palms cupped beneath both breasts, lifting them into the warm light, a silver belly ring glinting below and the oak beam framing her like a lintel over a doorway you would walk through every time. The chills are real. The warmth that follows is better.
