So real. So very -- heat and scent and taste and movement ohmygod -- real.

Not even Katchoo could stop to waste too much time thinking, immersed in all of that. Hard to stop and think when instinct and emotion had taken over, anyway, and she could angle her head just that little bit that way, inhale sharply, and run her nails along the inside of Francine's thigh.

Her eyes were closed, but as it was she was just that close to sheer sensory overload. She was about 99.8% certain that if she opened her eyes she'd turn to ash on the spot.