You could use a friendly smile and a nice pair of tits

You notice the cute smile first — warm, open, the kind that makes your pulse do something stupid before your eyes even travel lower.

You take your time getting there, because the anticipation is half of it, and what waits below earns every second of that slow descent — full, round, undeniably real, the kind of curves that make your hands feel suddenly restless and purposeless at your sides.

You find yourself caught between wanting to hold eye contact and wanting to stare shamelessly, and you realize with some satisfaction that you don't actually have to choose.