Double Entendre, and she meant them both.

"I mean the picture," she says, staring at your crotch. You hesitate and she bites her lip. "But don't stop doing that, either," she adds. Her gaze suddenly shifts around the coffee shop. Yours does as well; the place is empty.

"Slide in," she says with a dirty-as-fuck grin. She hikes her skirt and apron up just a little until you see the barest hint of red lace. You finish fishing your rod out of your pants and pull the picture of Maria out of the folder. She moves to sit down and you slide over on the booth bench. She sits, twisting in her seat to give you better access to her spread thighs and a great view of the thin lace hugging what looks like a bare snatch.

She bends over to your neck and whispers just behind your ear. "You'd better tell me everything that's going on here," she says and teases her fingernails up your thigh.