His cock isn't far from his own thoughts, as he can it pressing against the confines of his breeches. She can probably feel his hard on as he presses against her. He's not as far gone as Anna, but her desperation is amping up his own desire making his stomach twist inside him. His hand trails further still over the curve of her ass. She feels good, he idly wonders what she'd look like bare. There had been accidentally slips in front of each other here and there of course, but nothing as revealing as what his mind pictured now. His freehand slips under the fabric of her sweater, calloused hands feeling soft skin. He wants to go further, to feel her cunt against his finger or to press against her breast with his hand, but even drunk he's too shy to go much further than this, at least without her pressing.