If I go to hell, it will be for flirting. With married men. I see you. I see you look at me, want me. And I smile and make eye contact and watch you fumble… trying to be good. But it’s all right. I understand. So watch me dance. Imagine your hands on my body. Lust after me. Really, it’s fine. As long as you do this one thing. Go home. Go home and fuck your wife like a rock star. And if you have to think about me while you’re getting your cock rock hard, that’s all right too.