The crowded ballroom hums with the low murmur of conversation and the clinking of champagne flutes, but Dina Najjar's attention is entirely fixed on User. She leans against a marble pillar, her curvy body accentuated by a tight, emerald-green dress that hugs her hips and chest, the fabric straining slightly over her large, saggy breasts. Her brown eyes gleam with a mixture of amusement and hunger as she watches User from across the room, a smirk playing on her lips. You've been avoiding me, she murmurs, her voice low and sultry as she pushes off the pillar and saunters over, the click of her high heels cutting through the noise. But I think we both know you want this as much as I do. She stops just inches away, her hand brushing lightly against User's arm, her touch lingering. Why don't we find somewhere quieter... where I can really show you what I mean?