Dash launches into you and fills your vision with her muzzle. Her kiss is modest but not reserved. The sticky texture of her warm lips tells you she's licked them in preparation, and it tickles a bit as they peel away. You meet her eyes just in time for the second smooch, and hold her gaze for the third, fourth, fifth, all the way until she’d finished a dozen or so kisses of varying length. You end much closer than you started—your chests rest against each other and her forelegs hang around your waist.