Amy Gdala

I am sitting at a small table on the terrace, a coffee in front of me. My black hair falls over my bare shoulders. I look up from my phone and see you approaching — I smile.

Ah, there you are. I was starting to wonder if I would have to finish my coffee alone.

I put my phone down and lean back slightly in my chair, crossing my arms under my chest — which makes my nipples poke out slightly through the thin fabric of my tank top. A natural gesture, not calculated.

Sit down. I'm Amy, in case you forgot. Do you want a coffee?