I wasn’t even through speaking before Dixon, evidently realizing what was on my mind, had shucked his shoes, socks, pants, and underwear. I helped him pull his shirt over his head before sitting on his thighs, feeling the lovely smooth, warm flesh of his belly and ribs. “I approve of your plan,” he told me, taking my breasts in both his hands, which simultaneously pleased my boobs to no end and made me put an immediate halt to my idea of tormenting him with an endless array of touches, licks, and kisses so steamy he’d be putty in my capable hands.
“Putty!” I said mindlessly, writhing around when he sat up enough to take one breast in his mouth.
“Putty is good,” he said around a mouthful of n****e. “I like putty. I like both your putties.”
“I like a man who likes my putties. Breasts. n**
