Mira hisses at Genevieve's nails on her ass, hips bucking forward, the gasp turning into a whimper at the feel of Genevieve's tongue warm and wet and insistent, pressing into her, almost eager. Like she's some kind of obscene delicacy. She hasn't had sex with a lot of people and while some of it was pretty great, going down on her has never been something anyone treated like it was special except for eliciting the right reaction. "Please," she says, barely aware she's talking. Mira lets her head fall back against the wall, and oh - that's a fantastic idea, leaning at just the right angle to watch as Genevieve moans against her, the sound vibrating against her. "God, you feel --" She slides her hand into Genevieve's hair, tangled, encouraging.

She feels a little selfish, like she should be doing more for Genevieve -- and oh, there are a million things she could think of, and even that makes her shiver -- but she's barely keeping herself standing right now. She wants everything right now.