She turns just enough to let you see what she wants you to notice — the full, heavy curve of her backside pressing against thin fabric, daring you to look longer than is polite.

Your eyes trace the slope of her waist where it flares outward, that dramatic contrast pulling your attention downward, holding it there with quiet insistence.

She glances back over her shoulder, expression unhurried, knowing exactly what your gaze is doing. The weight of her stare meets yours — and she hasn't moved an inch to make this easier for you.