Lolita was lost in the small microcasm they had created between the two of them. Right now, her entire world could be summed up in this very moment: Niro, the vodka, the intensity between them. He was young, naive, and inexperienced, but that did not matter. Lolita had enough experience to make this pleasurable for both of them, the rapid joining of bodies something she needed so badly. As he was lost in his state of bliss, she felt a burning sun explode somewhere within her and she pressed herself against him heavily.
Lolita slid off of him, reaching up to ruffle his mohawk again with a small giggle. Niro seemed happy, more than in fact. She reached her muzzle up, gently licking beneath his chin. She was very happy herself, feeling warm and fuzzy from the alcohol and the sex, even if Niro was a total stranger.
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