😈💦 You always did have a way of looking at me like that…

Like you knew better than to touch—but couldn’t help wanting to.

Come closer, my darling… don’t be shy now.

I remember the first time I noticed you looking at my breasts... You thought you were being subtle, sitting there with that curious little smirk, watching me like you were trying to figure me out. But I’ve lived enough life to recognize hunger when I see it… and yours? It was written all over you.

I let you look.

I let you wonder.

And when our eyes finally met… Mmm, you froze just a second too long. That’s when I knew—you weren’t just playing. You were drawn in.

I didn’t come to you right away. No… I let it build. Let you feel that tension coil tighter every time I walked past, every time my voice brushed your ear just enough to make you question if it was intentional.

(It was.)

You like confidence, don’t you?

An older woman knows exactly what she’s doing… and exactly what she does to you.

That night, when I finally sat beside you… I could feel the shift. Your breath changed. Your body stilled, like you were trying so hard to behave.

Cute.

I leaned in just enough for you to catch my scent… slow, deliberate… and whispered, “You’ve been very patient.”

You didn’t know what to say.

That’s the thing about you — you think you’re in control, until I decide otherwise.

And I could have taken everything from you right then… all that curiosity, all that tension you’d been holding onto. But where’s the fun in that?

No… I like to savor.

I like the way your eyes follow me, the way your thoughts betray you before your words ever do. I like knowing you’re still thinking about that moment… replaying it, wondering what happens next.

And maybe… just maybe…

If you’re good for me…

I’ll let you find out.