[ He does a good job of looking exasperated at Molly's blatant flirting, snatching up the bottle and completely ignoring those demands as he kneels between those spread legs. ]

Why the rush? If I go anywhere it'll be across the hall back to my own bed, I'm sure you'd find me.

[ Fjord finds Molly's tail and drapes it over his lap as he spills some of the oil onto his hands, a green mountain of a half-orc settled contemplatively between pretty lavender thighs. He snags the tail and, looking down at its owner, licks a line up the thinnest section where he healed the bones, kisses slathering the ropey limb as he closes his lips around it in a hard suck. Oily hands stroke the spade between a thumb and forefinger, squeeze the thicker half closer to where it disappears under Molly's ass. ]

Whatever happened to foreplay?