"No," Penelope managed, obviously lying with the mixed expression of surprise and amusement that played at her features. She was laid flat now, her arms pinned down at the wrists by his hands and the rest of her pressed gently into the mattress beneath her by the perfect, solid weight of his body. She really was flushed now and she arched her body and strained against the confines of his hands, finding herself surprised at how much she liked him holding her down this way.
And of course he remembered her saying those things. She'd been well on her way to getting drunk when she had and he'd been asking her the most probing questions about sex, about what type she liked, how fast she preferred it... she'd hardly had sex enough times to surpass a handful of fingers at that point and now, well, he'd quite quickly multiplied that number with her and yet she still felt embarrassed about confessing those things she felt when he had his head between her legs and she was almost begging with the motions of her body for more.
"It drives me crazy." She managed, feeling exposed with how he could see her every reaction. She watched him for a few moments, her eyes on his as her body shifted in small motions against his, the friction, of which she had very little control, intoxicating. She closed her eyes then, preparing to try and deliver what it was that he wanted to hear from her. " The feel of you, your tongue- your breath," She whined then, at the picture her mind was conjuring. "I love looking down and seeing that it's you there. That you're enjoying it. Because you do, don't you? I can tell because you make the loveliest noises. You make me feel so good, so wet."
Her breath was coming out shakily now and she was almost whimpering. She knew people talked dirty because it was exciting and yeah, arousing, but she'd have never have guessed that just talking about something could affect her almost as much as the actual act did. It was a revelation.