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Coups de cœur Cultura
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Dan sat on the park bench, the afternoon sun warm on his face, but his gaze was drawn to the path. A woman, no more than twenty-two, jogged by, her ponytail bouncing. She wore compression shorts that showcased a tight ass, and her sports bra barely contained the generous swell of big tits. She glanced over, a flicker of a smile, and Dan returned it, his own mid-thirties frame feeling a jolt of unexpected interest. He was short, a fact he rarely thought about, but she seemed to pause, and then, impossibly, she turned back, slowing to a walk.
"Mind if I join you?" she asked, her voice light.
"Please," Dan said, patting the empty space beside him. "Dan."
"Chloe." She sat, not quite touching, but close enough for him to catch the faint scent of sweat and something sweet. Their conversation started innocently – the weather, the park, their jobs. But soon, her eyes, a piercing shade of blue, started to linger on his mouth, and his own kept dipping to the valley between her breasts, then lower, to the curve of her hip...
