A beginning. "So..."
A tiny bit of confusion. "So?"
A question. "So did Karen like the mustache?"
A nervous chuckle.
"Karen didn't like, me. At all."
A hand, traveling up, feeling his lips and the hair that "grows" there.
"Well, I like the mustache."
"You like the mustache?"
A pause. "Yeah. Keep it."
A sigh. "You never kept the heels on."
A knee, her's, pressing in-between his.
A growl, low in her throat.
A smile. "I'll put on the heels. You keep the mustache."
A tongue, sweeping over his top lip, feeling.
A hunger. A want.
"I oblige."
Agreement.