As Jake takes control, Dinah relinquishes it willingly-- she gasps, though, makes a sound almost like a cry of stifled pain as his member glides between the outer folds of her sex-- She bucks her hips instinctively, but also twists them away-- "no," she hisses. "not-- not yet.  I'm not ready for... that."<br/><br/>But as his kisses find her breasts-- firm, youthful, like apples in his palm, her nipples pert little nubs to his tongue, that moment's nervous avoidance is forgotten and she lets out a soft cry and strokes his short hair as she breathes deep, ragged breaths. Her skin's smooth, and he can feel the subtle ridges of her abdominals, the taut crescents of her thigh muscles-- god, she's in exceptional shape, and-- true to her word-- below her navel he finds the skin as bare and soft as kid leather, with no tickle of hair but a tuft of blonde hair the size of a half-dollar.<br/><br/>And she's wet-- he'd noticed that immediately when he first glanced along those healthy young labia, but when he parts those lips with his tongue, he's rewarded with a wet, warm flow-- youth, eagerness, nervousness and desperation mingling in a physical readiness far beyond necessity.<br/><br/>"Jake," she says softly, her breasts rising and falling with gasping breath.  "I don't want to die."