"Th-thinking?" Lisle squeaked.  The word brought the pink flash of a tongue into view, and sent a rush of the thick aromas surging into Lisle's nose and mouth.  Her nipples had perked early on, and the fingers on them pressed like a telegraph, sending a Morse code of jolts through her.  She could see the slick rising of the glans between her breasts, and could almost imagine she was seeing down<em>into</em>it, to where the semen was surely rising.  Between her imaginings, her new chemistry and the sensory assault, she can feel seeping in her core.<br/><br/>"N-not calm," she finally answered.  "B-but good," she hastened to add, to reassure Gerlinde that she was going to be a 'good kitty'.