"That is... yeah," I say, shifting my head to watch her face, the whole arch of her, with what I can only imagine is a kind of lustful wonderment on mine. "Yes," I add, intelligently, still pressing my hand into the warm curve, fingers curling in, relaxing, again, and then wandering across her breast, exploring.

"I have," I say, with a kind of gasped little giggle, as my thumb brushes up against her nipple, "no idea what I'm doing."

I am suddenly deeply committed to working it out, though. I rub my thumb in small circles, still watching her, legs squeezing a bit against her.