Maybe she was in a mood. Maybe she'd been in a mood since the previous day. Or since that day. An itch spread over her shoulder, and she reached up to tangle her fingers in and around her dangling earring. Well, so what if she was in a mood? So what if the couple two skips and a hop away from canoodling out in the open was an eyesore that she wanted to corrupt into a different sort of public spectacle?
The music was nice.
Maybe she just wasn't in a mood to share.
She sauntered into the open room, cool air of the fountain sweeping over her as she moved past the musician and to the couple. She sat down much too close to the man, hard confection in hand, and leaned forward. She had good cleavage, when she chose to emphasize it, and right then she was doing so, subtly but undeniably.
Less subtly, she started to lick her confection. Slowly. With much enjoyment. Maybe a little too much enjoyment.
The music was nice.
Maybe she just wasn't in a mood to share.
She sauntered into the open room, cool air of the fountain sweeping over her as she moved past the musician and to the couple. She sat down much too close to the man, hard confection in hand, and leaned forward. She had good cleavage, when she chose to emphasize it, and right then she was doing so, subtly but undeniably.
Less subtly, she started to lick her confection. Slowly. With much enjoyment. Maybe a little too much enjoyment.
Precise. ⚜ Vivacious. ⚜ Wicked.
