We meet at the bar. My dress is so tight, you see there’s nothing underneath. I’m wearing red lipstick. I want you to know that if I kiss you, you’re a marked man. Everyone will know you’re mine. Our conversations flow, but you can’t focus. You keep staring at my lips. The red taunting you. As we’re talking you’re moving closer, I can see your pupils large. You want me so badly. I give you a cheeky smile. “I’ll be right b...