[The thigh twitches under her touch but opens readily, and Nemesis gives an encouraging sound at the back of her throat, presses further into all the intoxicating touches, head spinning much more than that one drink could ever have prompted. Peeks up to the mirror, where there's nothing but herself, laid back, flushed, legs and mouth parted as she squeezes at her chest, arches up into nothing. She goes darker at that; squirms self-consciously, cheeks hot as the fire at her core; makes another whine]

Marceline...