César is absolutely enthralled as he watches her spin; he doesn't just like how she looks, he loves it. The ties of the corset, the way her pants fit her so well all around. Her hand in his, instinctively taking his direction because they're in tune.

He's still holds her hand loosely as she talks, nodding along in full agreement her assessment. Magne's hand just brings his eyes back down again. César would talk about the versatility of the layering options for that corset or how he noticed the pants have nice sized pockets or even that he has a present upstairs that would look good with this. César really would, but then she pops him with the little addition about a second corset. Oh. Oh, fuck, yes.

He makes a strangled sound akin to the one where she showed him her muscles, just with less of a wine. Man's utterly forgotten he's in his coat and socks.

César lets go of her hand and uses all of his remaining brain cells to request with a determined and clear voice, lifting both forearms just slightly: "Ma'am, if you would be so kind: pretty please shove me up against the empty wall behind me and place my hands where they can be."