"Ah!" the hacker jumps a bit at the sudden pressure of Tzahala's fingers in the smooth, soft skin of 'her' ass... but again, she manages to freeze her muscles before her drink splashes or spills anything more than a simple drop onto her fingertips. The thought of spilling the coffee (and facing the Israeli woman's "wrath" for doing so) is more than enough to keep her pinned in place in the chair... though her toes are starting to curl down into the  carpet, and another shudder rolls over her system like a south beach wave. "Oh... g-god..."<br/><br/>Tzahala can hear the sound of her princess' head smacking back against the soft cloth backing of the chair, followed by a low, perfectly feminine moan of pleasure. Whether embarrassed or shy or coy, the hacker is rocketing towards that edge of release... and Tzahala can already feel the muscles in his abdomen starting to tighten.<br/><br/>"P-please, Miss Sao... I... I'll..."  Again, the hacker pushes backwards in the chair... and gets nowhere, thanks to Tzahala's firm grip on his ass-cheeks. If anything, he just pushes himself into a better angle for the woman, exposing more of himself to her caress... and, in a sense, driving himself over the edge. Surprisingly, the cup in the hacker's hands stays mostly still even as 'her' toes curl into the synthetic carpet, and the soft<em>whumpf</em>of her head hitting the pillowed chair-back fills the air. "I can't!"<br/><br/>And then, Cori's knees give out, and 'she' sinks down into the soft mattress of the chair as a massive orgasm takes her. With a cry that sounds suspiciously like Hazan's "name," the hacker's body shudders and begins to twitch, pumping rope after rope of hot, sticky cum out over Tzahala's tongue. And with each passing twitch, and jerk of her toes against the carpet, Cori seems to melt just a little bit more; and the blush running over her skin seems to have reached a fever pitch by the time the last shudder rolls through her petite frame...