Second cousin, twice removed. Tongue-tied and suffering at the proceeding's periphery. All gawky indifference, sharp elbows, and protruding collar bones. Decked out in bridesmaid's boutique; a vision of bows, flounces, and rustling apricot satin.

Murmured words in her shell-like; entreaties to naughtiness as champagne bubbles tickle her nose and my fingers trickle across her back's exposed skin. Tiny crimson tramlines induce compliant quivers.

Away from madding crowds.

I wriggle, delirious on sheened leather as on her knees, dress splayed like a burst balloon, her tongue educates my oozing sex in all that she's learned since last our paths crossed.