It was a dance. Careful steps and moves, clumsily executed to produce forward motion while still keeping as much of their bodies touching as possible. Hilarious to watch, perhaps, when taken out of context, but delightful in its own way to Jessica.
She fell onto the bed with him and pushed herself up onto her elbows to pull her own t-shirt off. No way was she going to be more dressed than him. Clear of the shirt, she spared no time in putting her arms around him again and pressing against his bare chest, seeking his lips.
She could hold this part of the ballet for quite some time, really. Not forever, though.