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18+

My sweet, sexy candy cane and me – well, fancy a lick too??

There it lay, all spruced up – more spruced up than necessary – pretending it was just there by chance. Glass, after all. Cool. Flawless. With that look that said, ‘I’m not made for you, but you’re allowed to look at me’. The candy cane sparkled in the light like a bad influence with a very good eye for design. I sat down; she gleamed. I thought; she remained still. A power game without movement, but with plenty of tension in the air. She knew full well she was getting attention – and refused to react in any way. Typical glass. Always elegant, always a bit condescending. The evening unfolded somewhere between a sense of style and self-deprecating humour. No sugar rush, no kitsch, no false promises. Just this clear statement: Some things aren’t sweet, even though they’re called that. Some objects don’t flirt – they pose. In the end, she stood there just as she had at the start. Unimpressed. Unfazed. Incredibly good-looking. And me? With the faint suspicion that I hadn’t just won, but had definitely experienced something.