[She arches from the bed at the right spots, insistently working her hips against his fingers so the sensation ushers a range of gasps and heated moans. Her fingers slip and pull in return, short swivels and varied pressure as she seeks to also find what he enjoys, or enjoys best. The pitch of her moans rises.] Yes, Zel...
[She repeats it, his name, an almost whining gasp of encouragement as her thigh presses hard against his. Her legs shift and writhe against the sheets.]