<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/2/28/Jamilya.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Sourah<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Morning, Day 1<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zbDM9LsOfSs/UWeim0BSIeI/AAAAAAAADQQ/AEVWnosLg2M/s1600/page2.jpg (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zbDM9LsOfSs/UWeim0BSIeI/AAAAAAAADQQ/AEVWnosLg2M/s1600/page2.jpg)<br/><br/>Sourah was selectively picky. By contract she would eat any pussy put in front of her, but she wouldn't eat over half the food in the kitchen. The camera crew that had been following the girls around, recording slices of life for the first airing, found her in the kitchen with a phone in her upturned hand, looking up labels on the website Halal Or Not. If it contained meat or even pork byproduct, and it wasn't listed on Halal Or Not, she put a little frowny face sticker on the package.<br/><br/>The camera crew came up slow behind Sourah as she worked, with an intensely long shot of the diaphanous veil of her skirt- catching glimpses of her slut heels, her dusky calves and thighs, a brush of bare hip without even the hint of a thong strap. She took the opportunity to bend down over her work, and peek over her shoulder as though the camera had just happened to catch her being sexy.<br/><br/>She spun around with a silky swirl, a lovely smile for the camera.<em>Don't talk to the crew, </em>she remembered,<em>the crew don't get to talk. Only talk to your audience. </em>"Hey, girls." Her fingers wiggled at the camera. "Sourah here, 30F-23-34. I'm just checking out the kitchen." On her nails, she put one happy sticker, one frowny sticker, and flashed them at her clothed navel. "This here is for what we don't want to eat." One finger wagged. "And this is for what we do want to eat." The other finger wagged, and then stuck the happy sticker onto the gauzy pastel robin's egg of her dress, right over her mound. The camera crew seemed to like that. She held pose, hand on her hip, until she got the thumbs up and they moved on to the next candid shoot.<br/><br/>But there were always cameras watching, from every angle, recording her at her most intimate. It was sexy, empowering, and terrifying. Her hips could not stop moving as she inventoried the food with stickers like her own personal Lisa Frank diary.