Tav glanced over to find Portia tugging her cell phone out from between her breasts. “You keep things in there?” he asked in a choked voice, trying not to look there in front of the crowd. He was so taken aback that he couldn’t even be annoyed about her wanting to record him. “Yes.” She was busy navigating to her camera app. “Most women’s clothing doesn’t have pockets. Titty pockets are a functional adaptation.” “Ooo, titty pockets,” Cheryl said, ruminating on the descriptor. “I call it my cheb shelf, but I like that, too.”
