[Poggio]

His body immediately reacted to the kisses, pooling heat along his neck and his face. Swallowing what air he could, Galvin adjusted himself so that the balls of his heels rested in the small of Ambrosia's back. Idly he reached out running his fingers through the rose colored locks, twisting and coiling them round his limp limbs. His mind had been spoiled with images of his favorite foods along with an engorged pink sausage. He moistened his lips with what little saliva he could. “You do not taste half bad yourself.” He laughed. “Indian is far superior to fish.” As his muscles wiggled under the continual kisses he became aware of the position he was still in.