Do you want to stuff my tightest hole

Her body curves into the frame like a dare, hips angled just enough to make the invitation impossible to ignore. The lighting catches every detail — smooth skin pulled taut, that particular tension of someone who knows exactly what they're offering and wants you to sweat for it.

You feel the pull low in your stomach, the kind that skips past thought entirely. She's positioned herself so your eyes travel exactly where she intends, held there by the deliberate arch of her back and the way she glances over her shoulder.

The title isn't a question so much as a test. She already knows your answer.