Cherry Lady

You notice her pale skin first — almost luminous, like something kept from the sun and all the better for it.

You find your eyes tracing the soft curve of her throat down to where the fabric barely does its job, and the wanting hits you before you've made a single decision about it.

You could spend a long time just looking, cataloguing every place you'd want to press your mouth, every inch that would respond to your hands — and you know, without question, that time would not feel wasted.