They might see us standing in a corner of a crowded room.
They might see us laugh and touch like a couple in love.
They might see him lean in and whisper in my ear.
They might see him tug on my hair in a possessive manner.
They might see the swat on my bottom as I walk away.
They might see the stern look he has just given me.
They might see a lot, but there so much more they don't see.
They don't see that he's fondling my ass while we stand here and have a conversation.
They don't see that I'm laughing because the filthy things he's saying to me are making me giddy with embarrassment.
They don't see the way his whispered word makes me tremble with anticipation.
They don't see how wet that tug on the hair makes me.
They don't see how bruised and tender my bottom is from an earlier playtime.
They don't see how that stern look has got my heart pounding just thinking about a punishment later.
They don't see how all these little gestures add up to me ripping his clothes off as soon as we leave.