<em>Recovering some degree of coherent thought as she kisses him, the young aasimar librian nods, his cheeks flushed, his voice an awed whisper, sweet and melodic.<br/><br/>"Gods... yes..."<br/><br/>Even though she hovers just above him, though, he does not allow his body's desires to guide his action as his thick cock--precisely how is it that he never gets laid?-- pulses and throbs in its need for her. Rather, moving to kiss her back, he lets his hands drift to her breasts, inexpert skill tempered by a desire to give her the same pleasure that she gave him, though his technique, he realizes, cannot match hers.</em>