My nipples played — Making me wet

How it feels when his mouth finds my nipples, how that single touch can hijack every part of me, and the kind of things we end up doing once the fuse is lit.

We’re on the sofa, movie droning in the background. I’m in an old, too-big T-shirt — no bra, legs tucked under me. One lift of my arms to stretch and the cotton skims up just far enough that both nipples rub the fabric and turn hard. He sees; my pulse skips.

His hand slides under the hem. The moment his palm cups my breast I’m gone — soft warmth flattened, then squeezed, thumb circling the tip until the little bud aches. That spark shoots straight to my clit and I have to press my thighs together. When he nudges the shirt higher and seals his mouth around the nipple? Everything below my waist turns slick. Wet tongue, steady suction, the dull drag of his teeth — I can feel each pull echo deep inside, like nerves are wired directly from chest to cunt.

He sits; I straddle him. One hand fists my hair while his mouth keeps sucking through the shirt, teeth grazing each peak.

Every greedy pull makes my hips grind harder on his jeans. The seam mashes my clit exactly in rhythm with his tongue. I’m dripping before zippers even open.Pinned to the wallArms overhead, shirt bunched. He alternates biting one nipple, then the other, thumb pinching the one he’s not sucking.The hard surface at my back lets me arch forward. Each bite sends a zap down my spine; I rut my soaked knickers on his thigh like I can’t help myself.