Two weeks later the common room looked like a fucking war zone of shopping bags and half-packed suitcases. Riya sat in the middle of it all, cross-legged on the floor in tiny pink shorts that disappeared between the soft folds of her thick thighs and a thin white tank top with no bra. Her 36DD tits hung heavy and natural, nipples clearly poking through the fabric every time the AC hit her. Glasses on, hair in a high ponytail, soft belly peeking out whenever she leaned forward to fold another dress.

“Okay, serious question,” she said, holding up a tiny black bikini. “Too slutty or perfect for private beach?”