“Kiss me, Brent,” she demanded grabbing my shirt and dragging me into her full mouth.
After all the times I’d tried to move past just kissing I was gun shy but this time seemed different. I let my hands roam up under her shirt until I had her bra strap in my fingers. She kept kissing me hard so I tried the next obvious move. I snapped my fingers and the hooks let loose. She pushed me away but not angrily as she had in the past.
“Take off your shirt,” she said throatily.
I didn’t need an engraved invitation. I skinned my shirt off in a flash and threw it on the floor. I pulled her back into another passionate kiss and let my hands start creeping around the front of her body. She pushed me away again but gently.
“Turn around, Brent,” she said, “and run your hands up and squeeze my breast
