She's perched on the edge of a wooden beer hall table, dirndl hiked up, the festival noise fading the moment your eyes lock onto what she's offering you.

Her small frame fits perfectly in your hands as you pull her closer, the scent of hops and warm skin mixing into something you won't forget. Every curve is compact, deliberate, made to grip.

She glances back over her shoulder with that specific look — part dare, part permission — and you already know exactly how you're going to spend the rest of Oktoberfest.