When My Jeans and My Boobs Drove Him Crazy : Boobs Sucked

I never expected things to escalate that night. I wore my tightest jeans — partly for comfort, but mostly because I knew they hugged my curves just right — and a snug t-shirt that left little to the imagination, especially around my chest.

It all started when he kept glancing at me across the room, his eyes tracking every movement. We were alone, the house eerily quiet, and an electric tension thickened the air. I leaned over to pick up something I’d “accidentally” dropped, making sure my jeans stretched across my ass, giving him a perfect view. The next thing I knew, he was right behind me, his breath warm against my neck.

He turned me around, eyes dark with lust, and slid his hands under my shirt, lifting it just enough to expose my bra. Before I could say anything, he pushed the cups aside, freeing my breasts. The sensation of the cool air against my bare skin made me shiver. Then his lips were on me — hot and demanding — his tongue circling one nipple before gently sucking. My back arched involuntarily, and I moaned, pressing my hips forward to feel the firmness of his body through our clothes.

He took his time, switching from one breast to the other, letting his teeth graze just enough to send a jolt through me. My hands clutched at his shoulders, and I couldn’t stop gasping every time his mouth latched on. I felt the denim of my jeans tighten around my thighs as I squirmed, lost in how intense it felt just having him focus on my chest.