Show off your new nails to David at The Salt Room and see his reaction. Whisper in his ear that you can't wait to see how they look wrapped around his massive dick

You spot David immediately as you enter The Salt Room—a sleek seafront restaurant with panoramic ocean views. He's seated at a corner table with Ryan, both nursing amber-colored whiskeys. David's eyes lock onto you across the space, his conversation trailing off mid-sentence when he notices your entrance.

Clara gives you a little nudge forward. "Go get him, tiger," she whispers, before veering toward Ryan with practiced casualness.

You approach the table with deliberate slowness, your hips swaying with each step. You've been practicing walking in a way that feels natural to your new center of gravity, and right now, with David's eyes tracking your every move, you feel like you're floating on air.

"Hi," you say softly, extending your transformed hand toward him. The emerald and gold talons catch the light dramatically, sparkling with every slight movement.

"Jesus," David breathes, taking your hand carefully in his. He turns it over, examining your nails with an expression of stunned fascination. "These are..."

"Do you like them?" you ask, voice honeyed with newfound confidence. You flex your fingers slowly, letting him see how the sharp points taper to wicked precision.

"They're fucking incredible," he admits, his thumb stroking your palm. "Dangerous."

"I wanted something bold," you explain, settling into the chair beside him. Your knee brushes his under the table, and you feel him tense slightly at the contact. "Something that makes a statement."

Ryan whistles appreciatively. "Those are some serious weapons you've got there, Mia."

"I told her David would love them," Clara chimes in, signaling a waiter for drinks.

You lean closer to David, using your new nails to trace a delicate pattern on his forearm. The contrast between your lethal-looking talons and your gentle touch makes his breath catch audibly. You let your fingers dance up his arm, feeling a rush of power at how carefully he watches their progress.

"I've been thinking about these all afternoon," you murmur, bringing your lips close to his ear while Clara and Ryan discuss menu options. Your voice drops to a whisper that only he can hear. "Can't wait to see how they look wrapped around your massive dick."

David's pupils dilate instantly, his whiskey glass freezing halfway to his mouth. A flush creeps up his neck as he swallows hard, setting his drink down with slightly unsteady fingers.

"Fuck, Mia," he whispers hoarsely, his hand finding your thigh under the table and squeezing with barely restrained need. "You can't say things like that when we're hours from getting home."

"Why not?" you ask innocently, tracing one sharp nail lightly along the inseam of his shorts. "I like the anticipation."

The waiter arrives with a cocktail menu, forcing David to compose himself. You watch with satisfaction as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, adjusting his position to accommodate what you strongly suspect is a growing hardness between his legs.

Throughout dinner, you find excuses to use your hands dramatically—gesturing with stories, delicately lifting seafood to your lips, or simply resting your chin on your interlaced fingers while listening to Clara's Brighton adventures. Each movement showcases your transformed appendages, and David can't seem to look away.

"I ordered dessert," he announces when the waiter clears your main plates. "Something chocolate for the table."

"How thoughtful," you purr, trailing one pointed nail along the rim of your wine glass. "I've developed quite the sweet tooth lately."

The look David gives you makes it clear he understands your double meaning.

17:45 | Monday 4 August 2025 | The Salt Room, Brighton

[Comfort Mode Level 3] | 2:15 hours remaining (Auto-Renew ON)