With permission granted - not that she needed it, but it was so much sexier when people gave themselves to her willingly - Aphrodite slowly closed the gap between them, brushing their lips together in a gesture that was more like a whisper than a kiss.
She did it again, and again, then pressed a trail of barely-there kisses across Michele's cheek to her ear. There, she whispered hotly, "Oh, my dear. The things I am going to do to you." Deliberately now, she pictured them romping in bed, pictured Michele eyes tight shut, mouth open, gasping in pleasure, wondering if the girl could see it.
She pulled out her phone and, without looking, thumbed through the apps to order them an Uber.