<strong>Emily Fitzgerald</strong><br/><strong>Location</strong>: The apartment, her bathroom<br/><strong>Tag</strong>: John ((Age 18, 2010 continuity, active story))<br/><hr/>Emily's bare back faces him, the light-brown-freckled skin contoured over the smooth shoulder-blades and dimpled lower back turning pale down to the swell of her heart-shaped bottom.  There's a soft click as she sets her cell phone on the edge of the sink, shifting her weight from one foot to the next as she turns, arms crossed over her breasts, and looks John over with a shy smile that quirks higher at one corner.  Demurely, she downcasts her eyes a moment, reaching with one hand to turn the handles to her usual setting-- the cascade of water onto the claw-footed tub and hissing against the plain white curtain is soft and constant.<br/><br/>She hesitates then, lowering her hands to her side, her full breasts tipped in pink circles near the pale crests of flesh where the freckles fade away.  Showing no more desire to speak, she turns to face him, stepping closer so she must angle her face to see down the length of his body, and kisses his throat-- her mouth warm, lips full and damp, and places her hands at his waist for a slow caress along the sides of his ridged abdomen.<br/><br/>Sighing softly against the nape of his neck, she tosses her head gently to move her hair from her face, then steps back to part the curtain and steps inside, holding the curtain back for him to join her where the water, now warm, streams over her skin and turns her coppery hair into dark, wet tendrils.  She reaches both hands to the ponytail she wears and loosens it-- perhaps hoping he'll notice, she arches her back subtly as she does so, before tossing the damp hair-band off toward the sink and reaching for his hands to urge him within.