[He groans, low and intent, though it's difficult to tell whether it's at the feel of it or at the sight of her, opening her mouth for the leafy vine. He has to break for a minute, to gasp for air, face red and cheeks wet - dives back in with more enthusiasm than before, seemingly intent on pressing her up to that height and tipping her over the edge all over again]

[His own hand is working faster than before, rubbing at himself with almost desperate abandon as he trembles and begins to crest that ridge, himself]