City park after dark, where the air smells like wet pavement and old secrets. She’s been doing this for decades—knows exactly how to make a younger guy squirm. Skirt hiked up over her thighs as she sits on that bench, fingers tracing the edge of her lace panties before slipping them aside. The way she looks back over her shoulder with those knowing eyes? She’s not asking permission. Just testing if he’s got the balls to follow—or if he’ll chicken out like all the others did before him. No words needed when she stands up and walks away down that empty path, hips swaying just enough to let him know what he’s missing.