As the door closed Tegan felt the subtle weight of the necklace leave her throat. There was a single blush, a red patch of skin, where the rose had been laying, it was a blush that would not leave for some time. He had listened, appear beside her, this time fully clothed for what it was worth. Sand coloured linen slack with bare feet. A loose cotton button down in a bone white. The colours brought out his tan, his eyes and his hair. He looked ready for the beach of some other country instead of her living room.<br/><br/><em>These fabrics, so much nicer. They are actually a pleasure to wear. Now I can see why so many people take their time to get dressed up just to be naked later. </em><br/><br/>He moved to her couch and  flopped down. To him it was a flop, but it was as smooth as a ballerina performing a bow. He looked over. At this angle it became apparent. He would have to learn what undergarments were for, there was no need for an imagination to know what he was. The sight, the hidden body outline in fabric was arousing to some, but he did not send the mental image out. If Tegan saw it, it was her own accord.<br/><em><br/>You do realize, that one, I was not the one who keep getting distracted in class. I never once told you to reach up and run your fingertips along me as your necklace. While I appreciate the attention, I did not cause that or your other thoughts...but I might have enjoyed a few of them. You are creative. And two... I learned more about the sexual practices of this time by just listening. There are several people in that class who really are focused on ... chasing tail... was one of the phrases.</em><br/>