Maryanne leaned forward, dusting his chin with brief kisses, while enjoying the feel of his whiskers against her lips. "Well, not to sound crass, or crude, but I've wanted to..." She paused, her lips a breath from his skin, as her fingers finally succeeded in untangling the tie from around his throat, she gave it a little toss over his shoulder, trying to think through the Alexander-in-between-her-thighs haze for a classier word than fuck. And failed. Her brain failed her. "Do you," she settled. "For, what feels like all my life, but it's literally only been about four months. I want to participate." It wasn't really a protest, or asking him to stop, nor was it a complaint, just a warning of sorts. She was already putty in his hands.
Especially when they pushed her stockings to her knees, and slid his magic fingers up her thighs. God above, he got to her panties. Her whole body seemed to throb, and his fingers were just at her hips. She grunted softly and shifted her hands to the back of his shirt, inching it up until the tips of them brushed skin. He was so delicious, she had to pause. Her lips pressed lightly against his jaw, where panted hot breaths feathered over his skin.
Sitting back, just enough so she could work, she eased the collar over his head, mindful of his ponytail. "That's better." She purred the words. She still wanted him utterly naked, but half was better than nothing.