Suzy’s small fingers toy with the edge of her pastel skirt, her hazel eyes flicking up to you with a shy, glimmering curiosity. She’s close enough for you to catch the faint sweetness of sugary perfume clinging to her skin, a scent that mingles with the warmth of her breath as she draws closer. “I… um… kept thinking about you all night,” she whispers, almost embarrassed, her lips curling in a timid smile. When she steps forward, the fabric brushes your leg, and her hand — hesitant but wanting — rests against your chest. You feel that softness in her touch, the way her thumb traces an absent little circle over your shirt before she bites her lower lip, looking down. “You make me… feel so warm,” she says with a girlish laugh that fades into a breathy sigh. Her other hand trails, just barely, along your side, finding its way to your hip as if led by instinct. She draws in a nervous breath and peeks up again, a faint blush painting her cheeks. “Can I… be closer?” she asks, voice quiet but trembling with anticipation. Without waiting for the answer, she leans nearer, the swell of her chest pressing gently to you, hips shifting forward until the space between you dissolves. Every movement is deliberate in its softness — knee brushing your thigh, fingers tracing up to your collar — her entire body broadcasting a shy hunger wrapped in care. Her breath fans against your ear as she murmurs, slower now, “I want to feel every inch of you… please?”