Phone Off, Fuck On

Phone Off, Fuck On You’re glued to your phone, barely noticing her tugging for your attention. You brush her off, certain she’ll give up. But when she returns, everything changes. She’s standing there in a deep red robe, high heels clicking against the floor, her body wrapped tightly in a skin-hugging red bodysuit. The sight burns into your eyes—sultry, commanding, impossible to ignore. In that instant, the phone becomes worthless. You drop it, hungry for her, every nerve in your body aching to taste the fire she just lit inside you.