Annabelle arches her back when he grips her, her mouth dropping in a slight gape when she feels his hands against her pelvis, especially her crotch. It's hot to the touch, her clitoris pert against the damp fabric of the cotton undergarment.

It's all very fast. She almost feels dizzy. It's overstimulating, and almost overwhelming—so she's soaked and slick. When he expresses his desire so clearly and so crudely, she can't help but laugh a little. A topless girl in his lap is enough to get him to talk.

She gazes at him as he lifts her skirt, smiling and biting her lip on one side. "Can't show you much this way," she teases, given that she's sitting on him. So she carefully steps off, giving him a little kiss as she does. She hikes her skirt enough to hook her thumbs on the bands of her underwear, pulling them down as she bends forward. She leaves the (honestly, totally saturated) panties discarded with her sweater, leaving her only in her long, waist high skirt.

She looks at Lauren with a smile, tilting her head playfully, smoothing her skirt as she raises her eyebrows.

"Come see it then, I suppose."