"Careful," I echoed, one hand sliding up her side, tracing the dip of her waist before cupping the underside of one heavy breast through the lace. It overflowed my palm, warm and full, the damp material clinging like it was painted on.
I squeezed gently, thumb circling the hard nipple, feeling it stiffen even more.
She arched into my touch, a soft cry escaping, her hips rocking subtly again, grinding down on the hard line of . The friction made us both groan.
I tugged the bra strap down one shoulder slow, exposing more of that creamy skin, but left the lace covering her nipples—teasing, keeping the barrier for now.
My other hand stayed on her thigh, squeezing the inner softness, fingers inching higher toward the heat but not quite touching.
"Feel that?" I whispered, rocking her forward again, letting my cock press harder against her through the jeans. "That’s what you do to ."
She sobbed softly, hands fisting in my shirt, her thighs trembling around . "It’s... too much... I feel so hot..."
I leaned in, lips brushing hers—not kissing yet, just teasing, my breath hot on her mouth. She leaned forward on instinct, chasing it, her tits pressing fuller against my chest, the damp lace cool between us.
My hands slid to her ass now, grabbing the round curves through the tight jeans—plump, perfect, jiggling slightly as the sofa creaked under our shifting weight. I squeezed hard, pulling her down firr onto my lap, grinding her against slow.
No entry. Just pressure. Just tease.
Her head fell against my shoulder, breath coming in needy pants, body burning against mine.
The office was silent except for us.
And Aria was already falling apart on my lap, waiting for whatever ca next.
I let it build another minute, rocking her slow, feeling those thick, plush thighs quiver around my hips, the soft weight of her pressing deeper into the sofa. But it still wasn’t enough. I needed all of her, bare, shaking, mine.
My hands left the perfect swell of her ass and slid up the dramatic curve of her waist, thumbs brushing the damp lace that was barely holding on. I found the little clasp between her breasts, flicked it open with one twist, and peeled the soaked bra away like I was unwrapping sothing sacred. The lace whispered down her arms and hit the floor.
Her breasts spilled free—heavy, high, impossibly round for their size. Pale, creamy skin flushed rose at the tops, faint blue veins tracing delicate paths under the surface. Wide, soft-pink areolas, already drawn tight, crowned by stiff little nipples the color of strawberry candy, glistening from earlier sweat and spit.
I groaned, raw and helpless. "Jesus, Aria... look at you."
Both palms cupped them instantly, lifting the warm, heavy weight, feeling them overflow my hands like they were made to spill over my fingers. I squeezed slow, watching the soft flesh bulge between my knuckles.
"Aahhh..." she breathed, back arching hard, pushing them deeper into my grip. "Alex... they’re... so sensitive..."
"Sensitive?" I rasped, thumbs circling those perfect pink nipples, slow, deliberate. They tightened even more, puckering under my touch. "They’re fucking begging."
I rolled them gently at first, then firr, pinching, tugging just enough to make her gasp. Every twist drew a broken little "a-ahh!" from her throat, her thighs clenching around my lap, soaked denim grinding helplessly against .
I leaned in, mouth hovering over one pale pink bud, letting her feel my breath. It stiffened impossibly harder, the areola wrinkling with need.
"Please..." she whispered, fingers threading into my hair, trembling.
I took the nipple into my mouth, slow, deep suck, tongue swirling around the stiff peak. She cried out, loud and shaky, "Aaaahhh... Alex!" Her whole body jerked, hips bucking down on .
I sucked harder, cheeks hollowing, teeth grazing the edge before soothing with my tongue. Released it with a wet pop, the nipple now dark-rose and shining, then moved to the other, sa worship, sa bite, sa swirl until she was sobbing soft, breathless "aah-aah-aah" sounds with every pull of my mouth.
I alternated, greedy, left, right, left, sucking hard, nipping just enough to sting, then licking the sting away. Her tits swelled under the attention, skin blooming pink, nipples swollen and throbbing, glistening with my spit.
"Aahhh... it’s too much... I can’t..." she whimpered, tears of pure overwheld pleasure slipping down her flushed cheeks, but her hands only pulled closer.
I pressed the heavy mounds together, buried my face in the warm valley, breathing her in, licking the sweat from her skin before going back to those perfect pink nipples, never letting up until they were red-pink and aching.
Only then did I pull off, hands still kneading, thumbs flicking the oversensitive tips one last ti. She jolted with every touch, moaning brokenly.
"Stand up," I ordered, voice gravel. "Jeans. Off. Now."
She slid off my lap on shaky legs, breasts swaying heavy, nipples hard and wet, catching the dim light. Her fingers fumbled at the button, zipper sticking twice. She whined in frustration, hips wiggling, making her tits jiggle even more.
I leaned forward, hands steadying her waist. "Easy, baby." I pressed my lips to her soft stomach, just above the waistband, kissing slow, open-mouthed, tongue tracing the faint line down her navel. She shivered hard, a soft "mmh-aahh" escaping.
I kissed lower, across the luscious flare of her wide, child-bearing hips, mouthing the creamy skin, sucking gentle marks into the curve.
"These hips were made for my hands," I growled against her, biting lightly. "Made for to hold while I ruin you."
She whimpered, finally popping the button, dragging the zipper down. The jeans peeled like a second skin, so tight she had to sway side to side, breasts bouncing with every motion.
I helped tug them down inch by inch, kissing every new strip of skin, lower stomach, the soft rise of her mound, the silky tops of her thighs.
They caught at mid-thigh, stuck on all that plush softness. She struggled, breath hitching, little frustrated "nnh... please..." sounds falling from her lips.
I yanked harder, kissing the inside of each thigh as it ca free, until the jeans pooled at her ankles. She kicked them away, trembling.
Only her panties remained, simple cotton now dark and translucent with her wetness, clinging to every fold.
She reached for them, fingers shaking.
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