Do you think you could spot them from the street?

You'd walk right past this window without knowing what's waiting behind it, those big tits pressed lightly against the glass, daring you to look twice.

You feel the pull before your brain catches up — something warm and heavy in your chest, a recognition that stops your feet on the pavement.

You imagine the moment the curtain parts, the way your throat tightens, the heat that moves through you when you realize the answer was always yes — you would have spotted her, but you correct yourself — you would have spotted that immediately.