(Taste good?)
He tried again. And again. He tried to muscle it up, using his biceps and shoulders. But the Kharak was unyielding. It required a fluidity he didn't possess—a transfer of energy from the toes, through the hips, and out through the shoulders. It required the swinger to become a pendulum, not a piston. By the fifth attempt, Harman’s t-shirt was soaked, and his ego was bruised. He stepped back, panting. kake da kharak