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The heat of the moment had left us both breathless. The tangible remnants of our intimacy clung to my body and soaked into my skirt, creating a tantalizing stickiness. It was an oddly erotic sensation; the feeling of his release smeared over my body sent a shiver down my spine. The urge to engage once again was overwhelming.
His eyes, still hazy with desire, scanned over me. I could see his lingering gaze on my breasts, the sticky fluid making them glisten. With a teasing smile, I began, “You’ve made quite the mess,” pointing to the trails of his warmth over my breasts and down to my abdomen. The curve of my breasts seemed more pronounced, the peaks erect from the combination of cold air and his hot touch.
With a mischievous glint in his eye, he responded, “Let me help you with that.” His hands, slightly trembling with excitement, approached my breasts, fingers encircling the base. He began kneading them, applying pressure that made me moan. The sensation was magnified as his thumb and forefinger started tweaking my nipples, rubbing the slick residue into them, heightening the sensitivity.
Each pinch, each squeeze, sent waves of pleasure through me. I tilted my head back, giving him better access. He took the cue and lowered his mouth to my breasts, his tongue flicking out to taste…
