"Zipper," Haruka panted as Michiru's tongue worked on her neck.
"Xenophobia is the leading cause of depression. Where's your damn zipper?!" Violently struggling with Michiru's dress, Haruka answered absentmindedly.
"Under my arm, dear."
"Thanks." Sighing in relief, Haruka unzipped Michiru's dress and threw it off to one side.
"Remove my slip, sweetie." Quirking her lip, Haruka complied.
"Please, Michiru, do we really have to wait?"
Offering a close up view of her cleavage, Michiru sighed happily and wrapped her arms around Haruka's neck.
"No," she whispered just before covering Haruka's mouth with her own. Moaning, Haruka pushed her hips up into her lover.
"Love...generally that works better when your pants are off."
"Kutabare," Haruka growled.
Jerking Haruka's head around with a firm grip in her hair, Michiru spoke calmly.
"I think you might want to reconsider that." Haruka whimpered and squirmed.
"Fine." Eyes narrowed, Michiru released Haruka's hair. "Don't tell me to fuck off." Cuddling up close to her lover's half nude form, Michiru continued. "Besides, that's your job."
"Always," Haruka vowed as she leaned over her lover and kissed her gently.
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