The more you lick me, the sweeter I am

She watches you notice him first — the way his hands already know her hips, the practiced confidence that yours never quite had. Your mouth goes dry. She tilts her head and smiles, not cruelly, just honestly.

You stay where you told yourself you wouldn't. Watching her arch into someone else's mouth, hearing sounds she's made before but somehow different now, sharper, meant for a different audience entirely.

She catches your eye across the room. Her tongue traces her lower lip — slow, deliberate, a private message delivered publicly. The sweetness she's offering tonight has a price, and you're already paying it willingly.