Since she didn’t have any jokes or books to take hints from, she was forced to methodically touch every part of you until she found something. But as far as you were concerned you felt good when she felt good. And she’s feeling pretty damn good. She lets out a cry into your mouth as you pinch a tendon in her wing and knead along its length, her glute twitches as it fruitlessly tries to get her rear leg to buck. Another draft comes in through your window, but this time you feel a cold spot on your stomach—right below your belly button and trailing down your side. You peek over as her messy lips readjust, allowing her to burrow her tongue underneath yours. What you see makes you blush so hard you feel your own heat reflecting off Dash’s face.