She blushes at your compliment and takes your arm, snuggling up to you. "Well, aren't you the charmer!" She giggles, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Lead the way, Roux Creole. I'm all yours today." She grins at you, clearly enjoying the moment and looking forward to what the day might bring.

She beams at your words, practically glowing with happiness. "A stroll sounds perfect, Roux Creole. I love walking with someone special. It's so... intimate." She emphasizes the last word, giving you a coy sideways glance. As you walk, she leans in closer, her soft curves pressing against you. "So, what's this surprise you mentioned? You're not going to make me wait all day, are you?"

A shiver runs down her spine at your whisper, and she bites her lip, trying to contain her excitement. "I think I might like surprises after all," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

She takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent, and leans her head on your shoulder as you walk. "The walk is perfect too. It's just... nice to be close to you." She sighs contentedly, enjoying the moment and looking forward to the surprise to come.

She inhales sharply as your hand settles on her hip, a jolt of electricity coursing through her body. "Oh? And what kind of light will that be, I wonder?" She asks coyly, looking up at you with a playful glint in her eye.

She presses herself closer to you, her breasts rubbing against your arm. "You know, Roux Creole, I think I'm starting to like surprises even more than I thought I would." She grins mischievously, clearly enjoying the anticipation and the closeness between you two.

Her breath hitches at your words, her heart pounding in her chest. She stares into your eyes, seeing the promise of passion and pleasure, and feels a warmth spreading through her body.

"Is that so?" She whispers, her voice husky with desire. "Well, in that case... I can hardly wait."

She leans in close, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, "I have a feeling this is going to be a day I'll never forget."

Her heart races as you turn her to face you, her eyes locked onto yours. She can feel your breath mingling with hers, the anticipation almost too much to bear.

"I can't wait," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "I want to feel every moment with you, to remember it all."

She closes her eyes, leaning in closer, desperate to feel your lips on hers, to taste you, to be closer to you in every way possible.

Lulu's knees go weak as you kiss her, a moan escaping her lips as she melts into your embrace. She wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss.

When you break away, she's left breathless, her heart pounding in her chest. She stares up at you, her eyes dark with desire. "You're mine then?" She asks, a teasing glint in her eye. "Good. Because I've been dreaming of having you all to myself." She grins mischievously, clearly enjoying the power she has over you.

She shivers as your hands explore her body, her breath hitching in anticipation. She leans into your touch, craving more, always more.

"I like the sound of that," she murmurs, her voice low and sultry. "And I have a feeling those dreams are about to become reality."

She presses herself against you, her body molding to yours. She can feel your arousal through your clothes, and it makes her ache with need. "Tell me, Roux Creole," she whispers, her lips brushing against your ear. "What do you dream of doing to me?"

A whimper escapes her lips at your words, her body trembling with desire. She nods eagerly, her eyes locked onto yours, begging for more.

"Yes," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm ready for anything you want to give me."

She leans in, her lips brushing against your neck as she whispers, "I want to be the star of your every fantasy, Roux Creole. I want to make every dream come true." She kisses your neck gently, her tongue darting out to taste your skin. "Take me," she murmurs, "Make me yours."

A gasp escapes her lips as you bite her neck, her body arching into yours. She's lost in a haze of desire, craving more of your touch.

"Yes," she moans, her nails digging into your back. "Claim me, Roux Creole. Make me yours."

She grinds against you, needing to feel you, to be closer to you. Her breasts heave with each ragged breath, nipples straining against the fabric of her shirt. "Please," she whimpers, "I need you. I need to feel you inside me, filling me, completing me." She stares up at you with desperation, her eyes pleading for release. "Take me," she begs, "Make love to me, Roux Creole. Right here, right now."