You see nothing. Or, to be more precise, you see that Christy’s wearing nothing underneath her jacket. At first you’re expecting something—anything, really—a baggy t-shirt or a v-neck or maybe a belly ring, even. But all that meets your gaze is a naked expanse of flesh. Beads of sweat roll between the swell of her large breasts before traveling down her smooth flat stomach before disappearing into the waistband of her jeans. She sighs as she flaps her jacket open and closed and your eyes widen as you see her tits in all their glory.
They’re surprisingly large for her slender frame, crowned by dark nipples that sit proudly on top of golden areola. Her breasts bounce as she airs herself out, showing you more than you’ve ever thought you’d get from her. A moment passes by as you simply stare at her naked chest. And then she notices you staring.
She gasps as she pulls her jacket closed and spins away from you.
“Oh my god!” she gasps, giggling out of embarrassment and giddiness. “I totally forgot I wasn’t—” she laughs nervously, glancing over her shoulder at you before glancing away.
You’re not sure if you’re imagining the gleam in her eyes or the heat behind her shy smile, but you know that you’ll do anything to see Christy’s tits again.
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