She's spellbound, captivated by every word, her breathing picking up with each moment until she's panting ever so softly. Any thought of this being just a sexy but still innocent little whim gets obliterated into thousands of pieces when Tony really gets into the meat of the fantasy, and she shivers all over again as his calloused fingers trail further up along her ribs. She hardly even thinks of judging his storytelling skills, perfectly affected with every single word.

When he gets to the part about good boy and her touching herself in the fantasy, she can no longer contain her low whimper, her hips shifting restlessly against his as she feels wetness dampening her panties at the mention of tasting. "God," she breathes, a slight edge of a whine in her tone. Her hand strokes up and down his back, dipping over to graze over his side, fingers tightening occasionally; her touches are growing more restless, more impassioned, arching into his questing hand at her bra and dipping back her head on a low moan when his lips and tongue caress her throat.

"Where--? Where did you want to taste?" Her tone has a degree of audible desperation, her flush spreading down to her heaving chest, passion clouding her head from anything else but this, both her need to hear more and her physical desire growing. She'd never before realized how much spelling out such intimate details in words turns her on. Squirming, she digs her nails lightly into his bare skin and begs breathlessly, "Tell me, god, tell me..."