It was a good thing that the lawn was busy with people handling their 'games,' where someone keening or crying out sounds of pleasure were as easy to dismiss as the calls of birds. No amount of muffling with a tongue down her throat would stop the sounds from being heard, and get more desperate and high pitched as he teased and pushed her to the edge. Not even just to, but over, as her legs and cunt squeezed onto him like a snake constricting, as her hips pressed down particularly hard; unable to make more than short movements as the orgasm passed through her.

Not that it was exactly over, now was it? Even as those muscles eased enough to allow for looser movements again, he'd be able to feel the shakiness of someone getting that postcoital sensitivity.

Good on her for not coming completely undone. Almost, probably, though unlikely to admit it.