[She's breathless and flushed when he slips back to speak. Her smile is light, but she can feel that ache so much more acutely now, and looking at him makes her want him more. He is very attractive even if he thinks himself old. She clearly does not.
Francesca hums lightly, tugging on his hand a little.] You mean with our hands.
[Her other hand is already pulling her skirts up. Her dress is a little more traditional, a soft off white with lace and blue trim. She slips her legs a part before moving both of their hands so that the skirts sit up higher on her hips. He'd get a good view of her as well, bared beneath, before she's trying to find her fingertips along her soft folds, letting him feel her as well, how wet she's starting to get for him, too.]
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Francesca hums lightly, tugging on his hand a little.] You mean with our hands.
[Her other hand is already pulling her skirts up. Her dress is a little more traditional, a soft off white with lace and blue trim. She slips her legs a part before moving both of their hands so that the skirts sit up higher on her hips. He'd get a good view of her as well, bared beneath, before she's trying to find her fingertips along her soft folds, letting him feel her as well, how wet she's starting to get for him, too.]