Why was he even doing this? The high was wearing off, the lightheadedness was fading. He had to be aware of what he was doing. Yet, he offered no protests.  Maybe it was fear; she could end his existence if she wanted to. Maybe it was his doubt over everything right now, doubts about Erica, and just wanting to lose himself so that he didn't have to deal with the most horrifying thing of all: being trapped with his own thoughts. Or, maybe he really was just weak-willed enough to roll over and do whatever was commanded of him, if the woman in question had the right sort of domineering personality.<br/><br/>The tongue is welcomed into his mouth, and though it's not her breast, he is more than happy to return the kiss. His tongue plays with hers, rubbing and sliding against each other wetly, only reluctantly broken whilst they switch positions.<br/><br/>He almost sprawls out beneath her, his eyes traveling once more over her form. Only this time, unlike the few other times he's looked at her, his eyes actually seem to drink in the details; to admire her body.<br/><br/>His hands had moved during the changing of positions, and now they came to settle on her shoulders. He trailed his fingers down along her back, tracing their way along her spine, before finally settling on her thighs. He stroked her outer thighs for a few moments, before his right hand slipped inbetween them, searching for something else... it's only with a small amount of searching that he finds a particularly sensitive bit of flesh, right outside her entrance, and he would pinch it between his thumb and index finger, rubbing it back and forth.