[She feels like she's being whisked away by a noble prince, like she's the most precious and loved thing in the world. It's a little silly, a little childish - she's only two and a half years short of thirty, she realizes on occasion - but there's nothing wrong with that. They work hard, they have lives and worries. It's nice to feel like a little princess.]

Mm, darling -

[She hooks her arms around Pukin's neck, kisses back eagerly the entire way to the bedroom. When she's eased down onto her, her long blonde locks spill out around her, her eyes locked firmly on Pukin's. Her arms reach up, tugging Pukin down with her, around her shoulders, kissing deep, and doing her best to deepen every little loving nip.]

Don't worry about a condom.

[She whispers it, giggles slightly afterwards, sticks her tongue out like a tease. Her hand slides down Pukin's shoulder, down her arm, to her wrist, guides her to the hem of her shirt and pulls it upwards, slowly. Her thin stomach, first. Angela's got kind of an absurd hourglass of a figure when you actually look at her, especially at this angle. But she can't imagine Pukin minds.]

You've wanted it this badly all day, right? I promise, you can really feel me.