It’s my birthday, and we both know what that means. I’m wearing my favorite black dress. It’s snug, of course, hugging my curving breasts, waist, and hips. It hits just above the middle of my thigh and rides up when I walk, so I’m constantly tugging it down. Occasionally you grin at me and tug it back up, revealing more of my long legs. The top of the dress is the best part: it’s a scoop neck, but it has a triangular slit in the middle, showing off my breasts. Not that I could hide them, anyway.