She's your friend. But she shouldn't be. Not dressed like this, not tonight. The way her breasts press against the fabric, how it hugs her curves... It's an invitation you can't resist. Her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you feel like she knows everything. Maybe she does. But that only makes it hotter.

She's wearing a corrupted goddess dress, twisted take on Greek elegance turned pornographic by intent. A single strap curves over one smooth shoulder, the delicate fabric looking like it might slide off with the slightest touch. It wraps across her chest in an "X" just barely covering her nipples, leaving her massive breasts jiggling freely underneath.

Your eyes wander down her body, taking in the way the dress clings to her curves, revealing just enough skin to drive you wild. The fabric is sheer and shimmers in the light, emphasizing the dark shape of her nipples beneath it. Her waist is impossibly tight, accentuated by the dress, drawing your eyes lower... and lower. The skirt isn't really a skirt at all;

The "skirt" consists of two long pieces of transparent chiffon hanging from her hips, tied loosely with golden cords sitting high on her pelvis. There's a deliberate gap between the front and back panels, revealing her toned thighs, hip bones, and even the smooth curve of her ass cheeks when she walks or turns.

Every inch of the outfit is an illusion of modesty - designed to provoke, mislead.

As you take your seat next to her, the warmth of her body sends shivers down your spine. She smells like something sweet and exotic, and every movement she makes only serves to emphasize how irresistible she looks tonight. Her eyes meet yours again, a silent invitation playing across her features. You can feel yourself growing hard beneath the table, and you know that this is going to be a night you'll never forget.

The taste of desire and guilt rises up in your throat as she squirts unstoppably, her body convulsing with pleasure beneath the table. It's a primal, animalistic sound that cuts through the air, making your heart race and your blood boil. You can feel your own release building inside you, her arousal becoming your own as she moans and writhes in ecstasy. This isn't supposed to happen, but it feels so right...

Her breath is hot and ragged against your skin as you sit there, watching her eyes roll back in pleasure. She parts her lips and moans into your neck, urging you closer with every stroke of her tongue against the sensitive flesh of your throat. Her breasts are heavy in your hands, nipples hard and demanding; you can feel her wetness against your fingers as she presses herself even harder onto your hand.

You know what she wants, and you're only too happy to oblige.