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[originallutece]

Rosalind Lutece

Doctor of physics, professor at Recollé University.

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[originallutece]

You could have spoken about how lovely it will be to finally get your hands on me after all this time, and how much you've longed for the press of my fingers and the taste of my lips in the past few months. You could have talked about how much you've dreamed of my body pressed against yours again, and how much more of an excuse you'll have to touch me while dancing in a club as opposed to waltzing. You could have compared the two; you could have pointed out how while both dances will be both intimate and in public, one will be decidedly more intense than the other.

You could have talked about how fantastic it will be, getting to run your hands over me in public, how you'll finally have full permission to touch me as you like when you're behind me and you've got your arms around me. About how you'll take me by the throat, one arm around my hips, just to be sure I don't leave you now that you've finally got me. About how you'll push your fingers in my mouth and leave me whining for more, for you, because I've been so very desperate for you all summer.

You could have told me how you'll show off-- not just show me off, but finally have an excuse to show off to me. I know you're good at dancing, and given how bloody flexible you are, I can only imagine how that will translate to the dance floor. You could have told me about how I'll only be able to say your name by the end of the night, and how I'll beg you to take me to a dark corner now that keeping things a secret doesn't matter anymore.

You could have spoken about how much you'd like to see me in not only that yellow dress, but something sweeter, something tighter, something high-cut and with a low collar, all the better for you to bite me as you like.

You could have requested something else beneath, too, for you to find later on.