"We usually..."

The heat in the small cabin is already oppressive, and it’s only getting worse with four bodies inside.

Alicia leans back against the counter, her crop top clinging to her sweat-dampened skin. Her small, perky tits and hard nipples are clearly outlined through the thin fabric now that she’s ditched her bra. She takes a slow sip of her drink, then looks straight at you with a smirk.

“You know,” she says casually, “if you weren’t here, we’d all be braless anyway.”

The words hang in the hot, heavy air.

Kelly lets out a short laugh from the couch beside you. She shifts her thick thighs, her low-cut top already struggling to contain her heavy tits. A bead of sweat rolls down her cleavage.

“She’s not wrong,” Kelly says, glancing at you. “We usually get comfortable when it’s just us girls. This heat would’ve had all our bras off within ten minutes.”

Kristen, still standing near the window, goes bright red. She fans herself uselessly with one hand, her fitted t-shirt already sticking to her soft chest and stomach. She looks like she wants to say something but can’t quite get the words out.

Alicia doesn’t break eye contact with you. She tugs lightly at the hem of her crop top, adjusting it so the fabric pulls even tighter across her chest.

“So the real question is…” she continues, voice playful but with an edge, “are we supposed to keep pretending we’re not all dying in these clothes just because there’s a guy here? Or are we allowed to get comfortable?”

She lets the question sit there, clearly enjoying the tension she’s created.

Kelly raises an eyebrow at you, waiting. Kristen is still flushed and sweating, but she’s watching you closely too, like she’s curious — and maybe a little hopeful — about how you’ll respond.

The broken heater hums in the background. Everyone is already glistening with sweat. The air feels thick with heat and something else.