She moves suddenly and decisively, grabbing the hem of the left leg of his baggy shorts and yanking it almost up to his navel, taking his boxer shorts along with. Randy pops free and takes aim at her, straining upwards, bobbing slightly with each beat of his heart, glowing healthily (he thinks modestly) in the dawn light. Amy’s in a sort of light wrap around skirt, which she suddenly flings over him, producing a momentary tent-pole effect. But she’s on the move, reaching up beneath to pull her underwear out of the way, and then before he can even believe it’s happening she sits down on him, hard, producing a nearly electrical shock. Then she stops moving—daring him.