... Guess I've still got a couple of hours, anyway. No need to rush this. ['This' could mean the work or the sex, and Angela isn't clarifying - she's too busy kissing back, soft, small lips up against her lover's. Pukin's always been good at kissing. She's pretty sure that's why she let her have sex with her, way back when - all those seductive, forceful, encouraging kisses. They make Angela feel like the most attractive woman in the world.

Those words, too, make her shudder, and she scoots in closer still, clearly being brought in by Pukin's words, her attitude. That calm, even confidence. There's a sort of content warmth surging through her body, she can feel herself slipping into that mood. She flutters her eyelashes up at her lover, kisses into her chin instead of her lips, her small body held close to Pukin's, breasts pressed to her chest.]

Mm... pick me up, babe. Carry me to bed? [She doesn't want to do it on the couch, with her laptop right there.]