4’10” are we fucking or what

You find yourself staring at something petite and undeniable, a body that demands your full attention without asking permission.

You notice the way every curve is concentrated, compact, nothing wasted — desire hits you somewhere specific and stays there.

You already know the answer to the question being asked, because your hands are restless and your mouth has gone dry and the distance between you and that body feels like the only problem worth solving right now.