"Also… if Lyra wants to wait…"
As the woman continued speaking, her long legs, sheathed in smooth black stockings, kept brushing and teasing with subtle, deliberate movements. Rather than leaving his hands where they had rested on her waist and lower stomach, she gently lifted the elegant skirt that had shifted upward as she sat. The layered folds, dark as the night sky, cascaded gracefully over her legs, concealing both them and the lover's hand resting between them.
"Anytime is fine. You don't need to find some excuses, you know~"
Even without any particular reason, purely for pleasure, Astrid didn't think it was a problem at all.
At her lover's words, Lyra's ears flushed an even deeper red. Her free hand clenched the hem of her skirt while the other remained between his legs. Her gaze had become unfocused, her eyes seemingly swimming with dizzy, muddled symbols.
"That kind of thing…"
She hesitated for a long while, then, looking at Astrid's face, spoke in a small voice.
