"I don't understand it, Petra," Anne said, patting her blonde curls. "Why he won't --"
Petra kissed Anne's neck. "I don't understand either, ma'am."
Anne turned and stared at her. "Why --"
Petra squeezed her shoulder. "He doesn't know what he's missing, ma'am."
"Do stop that!"
Petra took a step away. "Sorry."
Anne stood, frowning. "If you're going to kiss me, for heaven's sake don't call me 'ma'am.'"
"Oh!" In two moments, Anne's petticoats were way up high and she was making soft sounds against Petra's mouth, her pale thighs trembling.
"Oh, that's lovely," she said afterward. "Here, let me."
"Certainly -- ah --"