The Denver Alpha
It’s a classic triangle top in black shimmery fabric with bottoms that tie at the hips to match.
“I’m not sure if you have the chest to fill that out, sweetie,” Tayla comments from behind me, and I fight to contain my eyeroll as I glance back at her over my shoulder.
“I think I’ve got just the right amount of cleavage to make it tasteful, actually,” I say, adding the suit to the others I’ve gathered to try on. I’m not even sure how much I like it, but now I’m considering it on principle alone. “It wouldn’t be cute for my boobs to be falling out of it,” I add. Because yeah, Tayla’s tits are always basically falling out of whatever she’s wearing. Even today, the amount of side boob she’s flash
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