Lotte's Claykiss First Taste

The festival's roar faded into echoes as Lotte slipped through the shadowed door of the workshop, her laughter still bubbling like champagne, light and effervescent, carrying the joy of the night with her into this quieter space. I watched her from the corner, heart pounding harder than the bass outside, each thump reverberating in my chest like a drum calling me to her. The dim light from a single bulb cast soft shadows across the room, highlighting the curves of her silhouette as she moved with effortless grace. She didn't see me at first, her fingers trailing over the cool clay slabs, that confident smile playing on her lips, a smile that always seemed to promise secrets worth uncovering. The clay was smooth and chilled under her touch, leaving faint smudges on her fair skin, and I couldn't help but imagine how that same coolness would contrast with the warmth of her body pressed against mine. 'Raoul?' she called softly, green eyes scanning the dim light, those eyes like emeralds catching the faint glow, sparkling with a mix of playfulness and something deeper, more inviting. When she found me, something shifted in the air—thick, electric, charged with the unspoken tension that had been building all evening amid the festival crowds. She sauntered closer, her slender frame swaying with that cheerful warmth that always disarmed me, her sundress hugging her form just enough to tease the lines of her hips and waist. I felt my breath catch, the air between us humming with possibility. 'Thought you'd left,' she teased, but her voice held a husky edge, low and intimate, wrapping around me like a caress. I stepped forward, close enough to catch the faint scent of her skin mixed with the earthy tang of clay, a heady blend of floral perfume...