Knees bent, they pull their legs up a little off the floor of the car and reaches their hand back to above and behind them to grip the top of the headrest for leverage as they grind down against their Patron's arm. It's shameless and embarrassing and Monty feels both pathetic, degraded, and so, so aroused all at the same time. Their eyes squeeze closed; the car speeds up. They should stop, should straighten out their clothes and try to remember their errands -

"Please," they say instead, unsure what they're even begging for anymore.