She smiles at the question, already shifting to accommodate him. Her hands skim over his chest, down around his ribs, over his hips. The whole while she's kissing him, or what she can reach of him, purring under her breath.

'I think I'm done waiting. How about you?'

One hand finds his prick, and draws the crown along her slit, wetness against wetness, answering him with shuddering breath at the intensity of the sensation.