Netflix and I bring the snacks

You scroll past the screen the moment you notice those thick thighs spilling over the cushion's edge, and suddenly the show means nothing.

You feel your attention lock onto every soft curve, the kind of body that makes your hands restless and your mouth dry. You want to trace every inch slowly, deliberately, like you have nowhere else to be.

You already know the snacks are forgotten. You lean closer, drawn in by warmth and want, your pulse thudding with the specific hunger that no kitchen has ever satisfied.