"You're so stupid." April got him, like, totally.

"It's all your fault." Michelangelo sat face to face with her kitty.

She laughed and used him to balance while he helped her step out of the pants.

He hoped his hands weren't too rough. His palms stroked her sexy hairy legs, sliding up calf muscles, the back of the knee, and her thighs. "You're beautiful."

He lost a few more braincells when his mask ends ran through her fingers, and she whispered, "You are, too."

His heart belonged to April O'Neil, and he wanted to shout it from the rooftops. But first, he had to taste her for the first time. He guided one of her legs, draping it over-shell.

One thick, green thumb sunk partway inside. He couldn't help saying, "So wet."

April moaned her encouragement. "Yes."

Then, his fingers like a V, he peeled her petal-soft lips apart and massaged.

"Oh, fuck." He had never heard April drop an F bomb quite like that before, and, never seen such desperation in her eyes. "Please kiss it."

Michelangelo's lips teased her glistening opening, and his tongue gently explored a sweet, warm ocean. Steady. Slowly. Her hands on the back of his neck urged him to go deeper. He did. Kiss her clit. He was pretty sure he did. Moaning and panting, April braced her palms on each side of the hallway.

Mikey loved her. Every time he asked her if it felt good, she assured him in between gasping breaths. It felt so fucking good.