For Taylor, this is Zack's show

Taylor's eyes crystallized under Zack's gentle nips. Earlier, he made the bold move of snatching her lower lip with his teeth, and she purred, reciprocating as their liplock resealed. That was an invite in Zack's mind, and now he pretended her collar bone was corn on the cob slathered in butter.

"Quick learner, uh, oh," Taylor croaked. "Gotta... be careful, you know. Too reckless of a move... and-- oh shit, you put that person off..."

Whether Zack actually listened or not, Taylor couldn't tell and he didn't respond. His clavicular feast had finished, and he was interested in desert. Fruit salad, with heaping mounds of melon. He edged downward, cresting her chest and launching already primed nerves over their thresholds.

"Just... just like that..." Taylor rolled her shoulders forward, and reached around her back. She sighed, rejoicing in her new freedom, and chuckled as her bra hung around Zack's face. He gave her a goofy grin as he lifted away, letting it fall to her jeans.

Zack found it hard to tear his gaze away from her darkened areolae, but something momentarily more important had found its way to his mouth. "Taylor... I think I... I've wanted to... have this, with you."

Taylor boxed his head and pull him back into a kiss. Despite the suddenness, the kiss was tender, attentive, and full of devotion. No tongue, no sloppy spit swaps, no **** yearning of sensation. This kiss was usually only reserved for long-time lovers who shared so much of their lives, or to soulmates who finally had the chance to enter each others' world. Fireworks exploded somewhere in celebration.

"I'm here for you, Zack," Taylor finally said, with stark clarity. "I always have been. Your breakup with Lisa, your... lengthy obsession over Victoria, all I ever wanted to do is help you and take away your pain." Deft fingers collapsed around his swollen turgidity, eliciting a wince. "You're in pain right now..."

Taylor **** Zack to the wall, reversing their stances. Much of her clothes were now well and truly discarded, joining the few scattered garments for later archaeologists like her previous self to question what transpired here. Zack absorbed her divine form, much like one observes the works of Renaissance sculptors for the first time.

"I could massage it, I'm good at that." Taylor's rasp was on overdrive to Zack's mind. She scraped his frenulum with a quick swipe. "Or... I could kiss it, and make it all better. Tell me, my Zack. This is for you."