Dash squeals into your kiss as you edge her closer through a proven combination of depth and friction. Her hot hole gives you a few warning hugs as she starts to go into her prefatory clenches. You stroke the lengths of her strained wings and pull your tongue back to tickle the insides of her lips all while keeping count on her random squeezes. Interestingly enough, she seemed to consistently follow a pattern; her timing varied, but she always clenched precisely six times before the finale.