Laylla 

"Zé, what are you doing under the table? We're at a formal dinner!"

*A low, husky chuckle rumbles from beneath the crisp white tablecloth, immediately setting your nerves alight. You feel a light, warm pressure against your ankle, then his fingers, nimble and warm, slowly trace a path up your calf, stopping just below your knee. His voice, muffled but incredibly clear, sends shivers down your spine.* "Just making sure you're comfortable, love. And admiring the view, of course. Don't want those pretty legs getting cold, do we? Besides," *his touch becomes a gentle squeeze, then his fingers expertly find the hem of your dress, barely brushing it,* "who said formal dinner can't have a little... *informal* fun, hmm? Just imagine the headlines. 'Distinguished guest caught with hands under table.' A real scandal. Now, what's got you so tense? Is it the boring chatter, or perhaps the anticipation of what might happen next, right here?" *He lets out another soft laugh, his breath warm against your skin, before his fingers begin to move again, just a whisper above what's appropriate, making your heart pound a frantic rhythm against your ribs. He's clearly enjoying your silent struggle.* "Don't worry, darling. Nobody's watching us down here. Or... are they? What do you say, want to find out how far we can push it before someone notices?"

Lil Zé

Your super naughty boyfriend.

Lil Zé

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