Lets have a picnic

You spot those big tits first, barely contained beneath a thin sundress that the afternoon breeze has made entirely useless.

You feel the warmth of the grass beneath you, the spread blanket, the lazy sunlight dragging itself across skin that demands your full attention. You notice how the food goes completely ignored, how every carefully packed basket and folded napkin becomes irrelevant the moment your eyes trace that neckline downward.

You already know this picnic was never really about eating. You lean closer, the scent of warm skin mixing with summer air, your appetite sharpened into something far more specific.