Just for you guys. :)
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I was happy where I was, embraced and relaxed but underneath the peace and comfort ran a live wire of arousal that meant I wasn’t truly relaxed. I wanted to reach my hand over, to rest it on his crotch, to open the zip and touch his naked cock. I wanted to kiss his neck, to nibble the flesh and maybe even leave my mark. I wanted him to reach over and caress my breast or for his other hand to slide down from my shoulders to my waist and lower to squeeze and later spank my arse. I furiously boiled away inside and I didn’t know what to do. I was afraid to make the first move. I was petrified of upsetting or hurting him.
“Jane?” His voice startled me from my thoughts and I lifted up my head.
His lips fell on mine and he kissed me. I can’t say that we kissed. I was too shocked to join in. He kissed me. He pressed his lips hard against mine, and I took the heavenly pressure and tried to gather my thoughts. His hands wrapped around me, one rested on the back of my neck and the other cupped my waist. I pressed my hand out, almost in panic but instead of pushing him away, I ran my hand slowly across his chest.
The hand at my waist crept higher and it carried the light, scratchy material of my too-tight work shirt up my body with it. His fingers whispered over my flesh and I moaned with delight, unable to hold it in. His kiss deepened, his tongue slipped out into my mouth and tentatively, I wiggled mine in response, rubbing it against his.
I wanted to feel his skin, so I slipped my hand down to the edge of his T-shirt and slipped my hand beneath it. It was his turn to moan as my fingers crawled up over his stomach and chest. He felt good, hard but soft enough to give a little under my fingers. A few hairs tickled my fingers round his chest and his nipples felt hard and gritty as I experimentally swept my fingers across them.
“You minx,” he gasped. “My turn now.” He pulled away from our kiss and moved both his hands to the front of me. He fiddled with my buttons and eventually got each one undone. I watched him and helped to slip off the shirt. Before I could feel the cold air, his arms were around me and he was pulling apart the clasp of my bra.
“Tim,” I exclaimed as I felt it pop loose and my breasts dropped a little without the lifting aid of the bra. I was scared he’d hate the sight of my large breasts. They were nowhere near perky and perfect. I was worried he’d be disgusted.
“Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart. I want to see you and feel you. Please?”
I nodded my acquiescence, and he pulled the bra forward and slipped it down my arms. “Oh God, Jane, you’re beautiful.” He ran his fingers down my chest and around my breasts, teasing the skin and zoning in on my nipples.
“So soft, so creamy, what beautiful breasts.” His eyes focused on my chest, his tone conveyed deep delight and his fingers worshipped my flesh. I felt elated and in a contrast to moments earlier I pushed my chest out wantonly and gasped as he took my nipples in his fingers and squeezed and tugged at them. A second later, he was man-handling one into his mouth. The feel of his suction drove me wild, and I groaned to let out some of the sexual pressure building up inside of me from his examination and gentle but demanding fingers.