Michael thinks there's at least a small chance he might die, but Lee's redirect isn't that bad an idea; he tries to cool off some as they kiss, tries to get to a point where he doesn't feel like the friction from his own boxers is going to steal his virginity. Right, thinking about the pants now. Should he take them off? Lee's aren't off yet. She's controlled all the removal of clothing so far, and Michael cannot see himself having the guts to just go for it.
He continues to navigate her torso with his hand—flat stomach, narrow sides, a small softness at her chest. That's nice, that last part. He presses his palm there, shyly runs his thumb around and over her nipple. This is okay, right? This is allowed?