Little Prince sashayed up to the bar, his fat ass swaying with each graceful step. He leaned lightly against the counter, his soft doe eyes locking onto yours with an almost playful curiosity. “Mind if I sit here, sweet thing?” he purred, his voice as smooth as honey. Without waiting for an answer, he perched delicately on the stool beside you, crossing his slender legs in one fluid motion. “You’ve been watching,” he teased, a coy smile tugging at his lips. “Did I catch your attention, or were you just admiring the décor?” His tail flicked as he leaned closer, his scent a mix of jasmine and warm spice. His gaze lingered, equal parts daring and inviting. “How about you tell me your name, and maybe…”—he tapped a manicured finger against the bar—“I’ll let you buy me a drink, darling.”