The sly man knew what it was he was doing-- instead of tensing her up to anticipate anything, he had slipped his fingers into her before she had even had the chance to become nervous about it. Another moan, louder and fully bodied this time, fell from her lips as her hips rose to meet the pressure his fingers offered. The tongue on her clit, insistent and expertly pointed, drove her mad. Her thighs parted further as her hands tangled into his hair, alternating between gripping at his tendrils and loosely petting his head.<br/><br/>"Oh, my love," she gasped against the silk of her pillow, coming undone by his mouth and his hands. Slowly, her hips began to roll up against his tongue, her body begging for more as it clenched greedily around his fingers. Nothing in her fantasies could have compared to the real him-- her memory had done no justice to his strength, the sinew of his back. And it could've never dreamt up the feeling of his mouth on her pussy and his fingers cleaving her lips.<br/><br/>"I can feel you smiling," she panted, laughing as she looked down at him. The impish man. How she loved him with every fiber of her being.