At first, the hacker had frozen, terrified of spilling the warm cafe on 'her' mistress' head. However, as Tzahala's tongue and lips wreak the best kind of havoc on her nervous system, Cori begins to twitch... and then shift... and then markedly squirm against the chair, moving frantically and gingerly all at once to keep the cafe from spilling.<br/><br/>"Nn... Mist- Miss Sao... I-If you do that, I..." The Israeli woman can actually feel the blush spreading across the surface of the hacker's skin, a wave of heat that runs from his cheeks down his belly and even up into his twitching cock. Though as plaintive as the hacker's voice is, there's definitely a sense of longing veiled beneath the pleas..."I-I wouldn't... b-be able to hold on..."<br/><br/>Almost unbidden, Cori's ankles start to curl inward, and 'her' sandaled feet start to slide apart on the carpet, pressing 'her' knees together beneath Tzahala's chest even as the first bead of her precum rolls out onto the runner's tongue...