He was a bit surprised by how easily the first clasp came apart. Women's clothing always seemed so formidable and impenetrable from a distance, and it wasn't as though he had much first hand experience with it. He'd only ever undressed a girl once, and that had been over a decade ago. The handful of women he'd been with after his one drunken night in Boston had all been whores, and they tended to undress themselves. Inexperienced or no, he was getting through the closures on her dress at a steady clip, until the proximity of their bodies prevented him from going any further down. He broke away from kissing her long enough to pull the little cape away from her shoulders and toss it off to one side, and to glance down at what he'd accomplished so far. Her corset was visible now, in a long, narrow v where he'd undone her dress, but not much more in the way of skin.

It occurred to him that she might never have done this before. In fact, the odds were strongly in favor of her never having done this before, which meant that if he did work through the remaining layers of clothing he might be the first person to see her breasts. The idea sent a rush of nervous excitement through him. He leaned in to kiss her neck, while reaching down to put his hands on her hips and rock them back slightly. His goal was to change the angle between their bodies enough that he would have room to undo the rest of her dress, but he had also unintentionally created some friction between the two of them where her hips met his, which sent a rush of an entirely different variety through him. He let out a subtle and entirely involuntary gasp against the warm skin of her neck. He hesitated there with his hands on her hips, uncertain if he wanted to continue what he'd been doing with the buttons or leave his attention where it was at present. He couldn't have moved her body more than a fraction of an inch against his, but it had felt so good — and, he realized quite belatedly, had had an immediate physical effect on him, in that particular area.

It was impossible for her not to have noticed, he thought, with how close they were. Should he say something, or ignore it and hope she would do the same? It was a stupid thing to be embarrassed about, given the circumstances — and if they were really going to go through with this, it wasn't as though they could both ignore it indefinitely.

That was the first time in the course of the last few minutes that Alfred had really thought about what was happening, and what was likely about to happen, and his stomach suddenly sank. He'd been acting on impulse a moment ago, but could he really go through with this? Of course he could — his body was making it very clear that he could — but he really shouldn't, and he would likely hate himself tomorrow morning if he did. Not to mention how she would likely feel, in the clear light of day.

Alfred took his lips off of her and laid his head back against the ground, but that was all the distance he was able to put between the two of them while she was still lying on top of him, and he knew immediately that he didn't have the willpower to make her move; his entire body was thrumming from the contact.

"We were supposed to go dancing," he pointed out weakly.