--At this point he's pretty convinced Evie knows better than Freud, at least in this case.

Eventually she pulls him up and kisses him.

Kissing is also very good. (He is trying not to, ah, consume Evie's face, and is only mostly succeeding.)

It turns out all the time while he was distracted his cock was right there and hard as hell and Evie has decided to bring this fact to his attention again with her hand.

He moans into her mouth. It was irrelevant just a few moments before, but now it's very, very relevant.

It is very objectionable how touching his dick makes it harder to press her entire body up against his.

She is going to solve this problem by getting on top of him and grinding her cunt against his dick instead. 

Yes.

Yes, she should definitely do that. Maybe a lot.

His hand can be on her round soft breasts and his mouth can be on hers and she's moving back and forth and it's fine, it's just on the outside--

What would there even be to worry about--?

And then of course it slips in.

Bound to happen really, things are rather slippery really.

It feels divine.

Nothing is better than opium.

Opium feels like angels have wrapped you in blankets of euphoria, like your hands and feet are tingling with ecstasy, like there's no such thing as fear or pain. Food tastes better, music sounds better, you are relaxed and you want to slow down and feel everything. 

He stopped, because it was going to destroy him, and because he didn't much fancy dying in the gutter. But he knew he was never going to feel as good as he did that first moment he smoked opium. 

...Being inside Evie feels better.

That seems like it should be impossible, but it isn't, and it's wonderful--

There's some small part of him that's elated for being to get this from something he doesn't have to give up.

The entire universe is fuzzy and hazy except for Evie who is perfectly crystal clear, every movement and every sound and every inch of her, and it's not so much that he's not thinking as that he's thinking so so clearly about the most important thing in the world, he can feel every nerve in his dick with complete precision and every single one of them is sending its own unique exquisite perfect sensation and every one of them is pleasure good more more more--

He is completely unravelling right now, but he doesn't care, because Evie's here, Evie's surrounding him, and nothing else matters.

And then the pleasure reaches a peak and he shatters into little fragments and when the fragments are collected together he's still hard and he can stay inside her and this is not really how things work physiologically but does he care--

How things are meant to work really does not seem like something that matters right now.

The pleasure feels more ordinary now, more like fucking Ruby's ass than like otherworldly bliss, although fucking her after he's come leaves everything so intense that it's almost painful. 

While that intensity is not as good as what was happening before, it's still very good.

And he should be a gentleman, anyway, and help Evie come.

He is also capable of thinking enough to have thoughts about matters like the fact that he's never slept with a girl before and certainly never put his dick inside a girl's cunt, and there was probably a very good reason for that.

Well, it's a bit late now. Any damage that will be done, has been done.

And a gentleman makes sure a lady finishes.

Speaking of which, Evie making those beautiful little whimpering sounds she made just before she came on his tongue.

He better keep doing exactly what he is doing, then!

She shudders and he can feel her come around his dick, feel how her muscles tense and squeeze and each ripple of it through her body.

It's even more intense, but it feels so good, and there's the warm glow of knowing he made it happen.