Eventually he might draw the sleeves of a shining silk blouse along her unresisting arms and button up the garment carefully. “How much cleavage, Mistress?” he always had to ask.
“You can stop right there, Brad,” the girl would say, glancing judiciously down her white chest. She hefted the lovely little mounds appraisingly. “I need to let the guys get a good eyeful. And maybe the girls, too, hmm?” she added mischievously.
“Of course,” breathed Brad, still naked and helplessly aroused before this now-clothed goddess of debauchery. “You have the most beautiful little breasts.” He licked his lips. “And, of course,” he added mildly, teasing himself perhaps as much as he did her, “if someone does get a good look, well…they might just want to reach in for a feel, as well, Mistress.”
“Precisel
