NOW, NOW," he kissed the scratches he'd left on your leg, "NO DOING THAT... I'M ALREADY GETTING OFF ON THIS AS IT IS." You lifted your head just long enough to see his face; his hair was plastered to it, condensation dripping down. The feeling of the pink goo spilling all over you got you into another frenzy of moans. You couldn't help yourself - the feeling was too intense, too pleasurable. You grinded yourself against the heart. "AH..." He choked back. He pressed the heart harder into you, trembling and vibrating and pulsing and bringing you closer, closer, closer. He had, somehow, managed to sit up enough to straddle you again. "D-DON'T TURN YOUR FACE AWAY," he chuckled. "SMILE FOR THE CAMERA, DARLING. AND BY CAMERA, I MEAN ME. OR ELSE...