Annabelle makes a surprised sound against his lips as she suddenly ends up in his lap—the movement is so natural and fluid that she feels she can't really protest. But she doesn't really want to, so whatever.

She's too surprised when she feels his cock press against her. It's like a rolling rub upwards against the split of her sex, and it makes her gasp aloud into Lauren's mouth.

"Oh," she stammers against his mouth, her eyelids fluttering closed. "Lauren." Her brows knit, slanting back, and she bites her lip. One of her hands pulls at his hair at the back of his head, half gentle, half firm. "Oh, I—I feel like I'm on fire."

Experimentally, she rolls on him, and her head drops. The friction is hot, and she feels like her clit and labia are engorged. She aches. She shivers hard.