If there was one thing he loathed with a passion, it was the dick-twitch, for lack of a better term.  It reminded him of a bucking bronco in a chute at a rodeo, snorting, kicking, and banging against the temporary pen it was in prior to release.  Charlette’s subtraction of his t-shirt rated a<i>meh</i>on the bronco scale.  What followed, however, caused said bronco to splinter wood and dent its momentary holding cell, ever eager to burst free.<br/><br/>She glided down his exposed chest, with eager kisses left in her wake.  Bronco was agitated.  Charlette ceased her descent right above his waistline.  Bronco was really agitated now.  Her graze of a hand and a gentle squeeze sent the aroused Bronco clear over its lame accommodation, cracking wood along the way.<br/><br/>Charlette then chose to engage in the covert mission known as<span style="font-size: 9px">Neck &amp; Earlobe Invasion.</span>(covert mission=tiny font) lol  Her body pressed against his, there was no way to ignore the fact that there was, at the moment, three pieces of clothing separating the pair.  One for him.  Two for her.  Monumentally outnumbered, Paul still believed the odds were in his favor.<br/><br/>And then Charlette’s next question surprised him, stunned him even.  ”...Are you sure you want this?"  Undetected, his right hand slipped under spotlights, guard dogs, and radar detectors.  A pair of expert fingers slipped into her dampness, locating and gently stroking her clit.  A light gasp from Charlette as they peered into each others' eyes, and he responded, “Does this answer your question?”