“Am I out of trouble yet?”

Sa’afia grunted, but she sounded affectionate. “Maybe.”

“‘K, I’m going to dump myself back in. Fact is, I do like it that you’re Samoan. Because I think your skin’s gorgeous. I love the contrast with mine. It just seems hot. And your nose. I was thinking about your nose being pretty before. But that’s because I think everything about you is hot.”

“You’re allowed to like my skin. And my nose. I like yours, actually.”

“My nose?”

“Sure. It’s noble.”

“Fuck’s sake. No-one’s ever said that. Anyway, I didn’t know I thought Samoan skin was incredibly hot until after we’d spent Saturday night together.”

“I liked your nose straight away. You’re just slow. Anyway, what about my ass. Is it hot?”

She pushed her hips back against me. I pushed back against her ass, hoping I could manage some show of penile appreciation. But my cock was wet, soft and comfortable. I was fucked out for now, and it stayed soft. I had to make do with words. “Your ass is hot. Damn hot. Fucking hot. And beautiful. Like a rose. Maybe a magnolia.”

“Magnolia! That’s nice. A purple one?”

I put my hand on her breast. “Yup. But it’s sleeptime now. G’night, dormouse.”

“’Dormouse’. You can call me ‘dormouse’. Good night.”

I was out of trouble. But I felt like coming back from the defensive. I felt a push from what RL Stevenson called the imp of the perverse. I put my hand on her warm ass, which was also hot, and slapped her lightly, squeezing a nipple with the other, breast-cupping hand. And I bit her ear lightly. Sa’afia stirred. “Nnnnn?”

“Mind you, I fancy that Daisy Duck too.”