Legs glistening with sweat, she teases him mercilessly, her nylon-clad calves rubbing against his thigh under the café table. He's hard, aching, yet she insists on drawing out their game. "Write me on," she whispers, pushing a piece of paper towards him. He scribbles a crude, lewd message, his hand trembling with anticipation. She smiles, her eyes gleaming with promise, as she folds the paper and tucks it into her bra, ready for later.