The sun beats down on the car, casting a warm glow on her skin as she leans back, sunglasses hiding her eyes. Her top, low-cut and inviting, reveals more than it conceals, a tantalizing glimpse of what’s beneath. The seatbelt, a thin line across her chest, does little to hide the curves that have always driven me wild. She knows, doesn’t she? Every time she goes on these lunch dates, she knows the effect it has on me. The way she relaxes, the slight tilt of her head, it’s all part of the game. The greenery outside, the sunlight filtering through the window, it’s a perfect backdrop for my fantasies. Her confidence, her allure, it’s all for me, even if she’s not here. The thought of her, out there, teasing, flirting, it’s a mix of excitement and agony. And yet, here I am, watching, waiting, always wanting more. The car, the sunlight, the shadows, they all play into the scene, a silent witness to my desire. Her presence, even in absence, is a constant reminder of what I crave, what I miss, what I can’t have. It’s a bittersweet dance, one I’m all too familiar with, one I wouldn’t trade for anything.
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