We had a new boba place opening. Comes with long line and wait.
The line was insane, twenty plus minutes just to order, then another long waiting for my cup.
That’s when I spotted her.
Mid twenties, blonde, Caucasian, Light lavender leggings with long legs, and a paper thin camisole with spaghetti straps that lost the battle against her full, round breasts the second she breathed.
The shadow between those half moons kept stealing my focus.
She’d been standing forever, so she slid down the wall into a squat, phone in one hand, knees apart for balance.
The low scoop neck gaped wide open.
Gravity did me a solid, her bra was clearly not good fitted, so the fabric sagged away from her skin, leaving a perfect, creamy crescent of underboob on display.
From my angle (two people to her left), I had VIP seating, soft, porcelain arc, tiny pink nipple standing proud like it was waving hello.
Crowd was packed tight, so I played it cool, thumb pretending to scroll, eyes on a ten-second loop, glance down>>savor the view>>flick up to the menu board>>repeat.
Every time she shifted to ease her legs, the gap widened another millimeter.
I swear my pulse synced with the boba machine.
Her drinks came before mine. I took one last mental snapshot, and watched her walked out smiling. Damn I gotta smile like she did.
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