"Well, thank you," he said, sitting back with a ridiculous feeling of smug pleasure at her response.
"Fantastic how a guy can sweat out the hot-seat and kiss like a high school sophomore." Her tone of voice led him to delve into the idiomatic roots of her words, and he came away deflated.
"I, ah, let's try again," he suggested.
He had been holding himself slightly aloof from the sensation thresholds of this primitive body, but now he let himself sink deeply into the full neuro-muscular morass of feelings and emotions. The effect was astonishing, confusing, overwhelming.
Tearing his lips loose he demanded, "What is it?"
"What's what?"
"This—this, whatever we're doing?" Somehow they had become oddly entwined, and his tactile sensations were blossoming like a nova.
Her head slipped past his face, and her sharp teeth nibbled at his ear. "You are a strange one, honey. It's kissing. It's love-making. And incidentally, you're doing all right now. Kiss me again, honey. All those volts! Make me feel it. Make me—"
He piled his hastily contrived, but entirely functional, orbicular organs upon hers so hard that their teeth clashed. The nova inside him burgeoned and whirled as though feeding on some hidden hydrogen-helium infusion. Minutes flashed into eternity. Then an hour, and the crazy crescendo of emotion was still mounting between them.
Then at the first streak of dawn, his bony arms crushed her to him in a clasp that sent the universe exploding in one solid bath of pure, nutrient energy.