Well, they have to come off. Her hands trail down Michael's shoulder, his arms, skim over his sides, stop at his waistband again. Lee breathes in. His hands feel really nice - kind of rough, but that's okay, she likes it. She makes a little noise, approving, and turns her mouth away from his, trailing kisses over his jaw. Her nipple stands up under his finger and the accompanying heat between her legs makes her fidgety and nervous, but she's calm, okay, she's calm, slow, she's in the moment, this is okay.
Her thumbs hook under the waistband of his pajama bottoms and his underwear, while she's at it. She pushes down. There. She's not looking yet - they're still under the covers, though it's very, very hot by now and she thinks they should maybe throw them off - but she can sort of feel it. When she puts her hand there, she can definitely feel it.
Lee has seen naked people. A lot of naked people. She's been seen naked, too. Casual nudity is not uncommon with the people she spends all her time with, her liberated artistic friends, and she grew up a boy, there were locker rooms, gym classes, football practises, trips to the beach. This is so different. She feels vulnerable. He probably feels more vulnerable, to be fair, considering she has got his dick in her hand.