<div class="floatleft">(https://i.imgur.com/dmh53LH.jpg)</div><strong>Name</strong>: Emma Grey (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=337584.msg16026944#msg16026944)<br/><strong>Location</strong>: Patio table<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong><del>Black jacket</del>,<del>Black top</del>, Black bra, Belt, Jeans,<del>Sneakers</del><br/><strong>Content Warning</strong>: Stripping and touching<br/><strong>Optional</strong><br/><strong>Tagging</strong>: Everyone outside<br/><hr/><br/>Emma's elbows had bent after Jonathan lifted her arms, hands falling behind her head in a pose reminiscent of surrender. Having her hands led away from the action -- unable to stop Jonathan's fingers from going where they pleased -- left Emma feeling vulnerable in all the right ways. For now, she was his to explore. Within reason, of course. Emma was drunk, but not 'trashy makeout session in front of strangers' levels of drunk.<br/><br/>He began to lift her shirt, slow and methodical in his approach. Fingertips grazed along her skin in their upward ascent, pulling the soft fabric of her shirt with them. Emma shivered beneath the touch, electricity traveling up her spine in response to the delicate path being traced up toward her breasts. Her breathing gradually grew slower and deeper, almost mirroring Jonathan's careful approach. But despite the slowness of everything happening on her exterior, the heart within her chest picked up its rhythm, suffusing Emma's body with spreading heat and a nice chemical cocktail of hormones.<br/><br/>Jonathan had felt along the top of her hips and down the gentle slope of her waist only to stop at her ribs. For most of it, Emma's eyes stayed on Jonathan's face, finding satisfaction in his reactions and his appreciation. But in that small moment of hesitation before cresting the curve of her breasts, Emma let her eyes wander down to her own chest to spot what was standing between her and shirtlessness. When she tilted her head back up to look at Jonathan, his eyes immediately met hers. Was he seeking permission? Searching her eyes for her reaction?<br/><br/>If it was a reaction he was after, the final upward tug extracted it from her. Emma gasped softly as her bra was uncovered, unconsciously pushing out her chest with the inhale and holding that breath in until her shirt was off. A lot more thought went into the relatively plain black plunge bra that Emma had picked out for tonight than she would readily admit. The temptation to go to the back of the drawer and grab one of her 'fuck me' bras was there. In the end though, Emma thought better of it; she didn't want to look<em>too</em>eager for her first celebrity orgy. There was a little lift to it, but there was only so much work the thin straps could do. Not that Emma needed a lot help making the girls look good, but a little extra cleavage never hurt anyone.<br/><br/>Emma took the shirt offered to her with a small grin and then tossed it aside without looking away from Jonathan. Her clothes were definitely getting a good spread around the patio: the shoes near her seat, the jacket she tossed at Lance, and now her shirt hanging out a few strides from the edge of the pool. "<strong>You act like you've done that a few times before.</strong>"<br/><br/>While Jonathan was doing his best to act like he hadn't just partially stripped an attractive woman, Emma leaned a little closer to him. Her fingers hesitated in front of his abs, some small remnant of her sober self rambling something about boundaries and personal space. Drunk Emma chose not to hear any of that though, letting some primal instinct speak to her instead. And<em>that</em>voice said that she needed to know what Jonathan's bare torso felt like. Now that was a language Emma understood.<br/><br/>Like feathers, Emma's fingertips brushed along the defined muscles, sweeping down until they rested on the waistband of Jonathan's jeans. "<strong>Ooooh.</strong>" Emma was far more vocal in her appreciation, and in case no one caught her soft cooing, the dumb grin on her face would have tipped anyone off. Her fingers continued to grow braver by the second, some of them flirting with the concept of slipping into Jonathan's waistband. It was only the distraction of the upcoming challenges that kept Emma honest, wandering eyes that were as curious to see who Rose and Diane would kiss as her hands were curious to see what was in Jonathan's jeans.