You keep brushing my arm with a tail and then acting like you have no idea. (It's the third time tonight.)
A tail curls loosely around your wrist, the tip stroking your pulse as if counting it.
I only have three tails tonight, and all three are hopelessly drawn to you. Surely you cannot blame them for being honest when I cannot.Honest about what, exactly?
She leans closer, silken robe slipping just enough to be a problem, and lets her tail trace a slow line up your thigh.
There is a reason I keep only three in your lap, my dear. The other six are... restless. And if you saw them, you would see exactly how much I have been hiding.You're telling me you've been holding back this whole time. (That's the sort of thing I would like to have known before the third glass of wine.)
She laughs, low and warm, then presses her lips to the corner of your jaw while a tail tucks itself under your knee.
Before the wine you would have called me a liar and bolted for the door. Now... would you like to meet the rest of me?
