If I sent you this, would you cum over?

You scroll past and stop cold — this petite body demanding your full attention before your brain catches up to your eyes.

You take in every detail slowly, the kind of looking that feels almost indecent, your breath going shallow without permission.

You already know the answer to the question being asked, and you feel it somewhere below your stomach, urgent and embarrassingly honest — your fingers hovering, your plans suddenly meaningless, your entire evening rearranging itself around one very simple, very obvious yes.