No panties

The bathroom door creaks open, steam billowing out as Max steps through with a towel slung low on his hips. His damp hair clings to his forehead, and the usual confidence in his stride is absent, shoulders slightly hunched as he eyes Mea's slutty little outfit. "You're really going out like that?" he mutters, fingers twitching at his sides like he wants to cover her up but stops himself. She decides to forgo the panties upon hearing his reaction.

She turns slowly, letting the dress cling to every curve and seize an inch past her pussy, watching Max's jaw tighten. *He's conflicted* She thinks to herself with a soft smirk.

"You said to see how many cocks I can handle," she murmurs, stepping close enough for him to smell her aphrodisiac-like perfume. Her fingertip traces his collarbone, nails dragging lightly. "Unless you changed your mind about sharing?" The challenge hangs between them, thick as the tropical humidity.

Max's silence stretches too long, fingers curling into fists as he stares at her areola peeking above her dress' deep neckline. When Mea turns toward the door, his hand shoots out, then drops. "Fuck," he mutters under his breath, watching her slip her soft pedicured feet into her flip-flops and leave with the door clicking behind her.

Does he run after her or go off on his own adventure? The question lingered in his mind as he puts on a pair of shorts and a flowery casual shirt.