Astounding, that he could blanket her in Greta wherever his attention went on her skin. Artful, but no mere trick. She could have switched completely at a blink, he was sure, but instead this pleasant gradation of nymph and woman. Everywhere he didn't look would have altered when he saw it again. Had he already grown accustomed to his new title off Iris's breath, that it was such a contrast and novelty to hear Great say it, too?<br/><br/>As Greta grew out of the bud-creature, Kedrick was still, breathing in a telling way as she unfolded remade. Without clothes, it was like seeing the stately woman being born. It was unbearably perverse and yet it looked natural with nothing to underline the new nudity. He was completely transfixed by her descending hand, his blood cooling in sudden fear of what he'd asked of her. He only had eager for her, when she sought encouragement. Innocent Iris, preforming such lewdness like she was saving him.<br/><br/>He'd lost his breath when the first crack filled the car. He had to shift, for how it had effected him, and made the pressed fabric of his tailoring tighter. Still, he thought he should stop it, hesitation in his boil. It was pretty to see her discover herself for him, but he rolled the back of his head against the glass he leaned to when another punishment fell on her face. There was the aesthetic he wanted. Collected Greta, practicing punishment and reward at the same time. His lips felt dry when he licked them.<br/><br/>"Do you regret it now?" he asked either of them, though Iris had not done anything to offend him. "I think this is a little disgraceful for your company, isn't it?" It could have been applied to them both, he supposed. "Perhaps I should complain and have you unemployed."<br/><br/>He stroked her hair and went over her shoulder with his vast reach from where he sat, still petting her like Iris, even though she was caught up with being someone else. Like touching a performer on the scene, without break immersion. He was quiet while his blood spoke of his excruciating approval. Perhaps it was easier, since he knew it was all pretend. It wasn't really Greta here.<br/><br/>"Harder." and he didn't care which of her hands listened. A quick tug at her thigh, and he brought one of her legs into his lap, which put her on her back, her honeyed entrance - chocking on her fingers - pointing at him. His pulse was vivid, hard, when he could see and sample all her scents too. What an animal Greta was.<br/><br/>He was forgetting about how tenderly he wanted to treat Iris, and hungered for more of Greta's fall. He took the heavier orb in his hand and squeezed with some force to add to the beautiful misery. His other petted up her stomach to clasp around her ribs, squeezing possessively with bruising intimacy. He wanted to make her hate it, and make her want it.