her skin , which had looked so like porcelain , felt softer than a down feather against me , ah , all of her seemed a soft doll , made of luscious and magical materials far more yielding than flesh and blood yet utterly on fire with both , for a heat came out of her in a rhythmic throb , emanating right from the coolness of her fingers stroking my wrists as they held them , and then the heat of her tongue shot into my lips , against my will , with a wet , delicious and vehement force against which i could do nothing .