She steps in willingly, her full breasts brushing against my chest as I lace our fingers together. Her other hand goes to my shoulder. My fingers glide over the silky fabric of her emerald dress, my palm splaying possessively at the small of her back. She fits snug against me, our toes tapping as we find our footing and start to sway. “Do you like to dance?” she says after a minute. I glance down. “With you, yes.” She smiles without teeth.
