Please, your face in them

You can't pull your eyes away from the cleavage that fills the frame, soft and deep and offered up like an answer to something you didn't know you were asking.

You feel the pull low in your stomach, the kind that makes your hands restless and your mouth dry. You want to press your face into that warmth and stay there until the rest of the world stops mattering.

You already know exactly how it would feel — the weight, the heat, the give of it against your skin. You've been staring long enough to have memorized every curve.