"You can touch me, it's okay," John said softly, his tone warm and encouraging. "I won't bite, unless you want me to." He chuckled softly at his little joke and kissed her again, his mouth traveling down her jaw, soft stubble scratch on her skin. He held her firmly close with his one arm around her waist, and murmured, "Can I touch you?" as he did it anyway, his other hand covering her breast over her dress, gently massaging and trying to find her nipple through the fabric to rub over it. He ached to see her naked. He wanted to see if she had freckles all over. He hoped she didn't wax all over, because he missed the old days where women actually had body hair. He'd find out soon enough.
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