And he, in turns, lets out a deep breath when he feels her hand circle him, pressing up into the touch automatically. He can't decide whether to stop to get the damn pants off but really, there's no decision to make. Not when she's all wet and her voice sounds like that, and she's leaning against him. He's not going to spoil that.

'Golf ball through a straw,' he mutters, almost to himself, and slips a second one in, just like he had before. He is absolutely not thinking about the way she's touching him. Also like before, that can bloody wait its turn.