For the last several months, I have been overly consumed with touching Tee whenever and wherever I can. If she's cooking, I move up behind her and put my hands on her hips or around her waist, and am occasionally rewarded with her pulling my hands up and onto her chest, where I take full opportunity to caress every inch of her large breasts thru the fabric of her shirt and bra.
If she's walking in the garden, I put my hand on her back and lean in to kiss her, and am occasionally surprised and delighted when she guides my hand to her lips for a small kiss and then brushes it coyly onto her waiting cleavage, where I can feel the soft swell of her cool skin against the backs of my fingers. She knows now that I thrill for her breasts, to handle them however she will let me.
Perhaps she feels the serotonin warmth radiate thru me when I am with her like this, my eyes loosing focus and my sighing like a schoolboy when the flesh of her breasts moves against my hands. Even without the obvious physical signs (did I mention a swelling in my jeans?) my attention to her girls would be enough to let her know my interest, and my interest is my constant companion nowadays.
If this romantic description of my lust is reading like a between-the-lines Thomas Hardy novel, complete with tight bodices and heaving bosoms, you would not be far off the mark, and certainly is an enjoyable image for me. My tastes run to unabashed pleasure in my lovely Tee's body, and while the experience of the physical with her might remain essentially the same each time, how it comes about that I am positioned with my cock buried snuggly in her tits is what partly creates, for me, the tension that is so wonderful and essential to release.
My most recent interlude with Tee was completely unexpected on my part, which in retrospect added much to the whole experience and my thought is she engineered it just for this reason. We were chatting about something insubstantial while making the bed, and had been sipping whiskey earlier in the kitchen (remember paragraph one?)
"You seem pretty out of sorts, are you all right?" she asked. I grunted something, my mind elsewhere. She made a little pouty face and said "Poor Pascal. Want to come over here and come between my breasts?"
"Huh?" Dumbfounded.
"I meant, want to come between my tits?"
I laughed and walked over to her, watching as she took off her jeans and sat down on the bed in her panties. "You want me to fuck your tits?" I asked, enjoying the way it felt saying the words, liking where this was going. I was going to make this as dirty as possible. "Fuck them then come on them?"
"Mmmhmm. How do you want me?" Tee asked, all innocence.
She was wearing a scoop necked shirt, so I knelt down and pulled the shoulders of the top down along her arms until the scoop was gathered under her bra, a simple and soft maroon D cup with thin black straps. Her boobs pushed full against them as I pressed my face into the cleavage of her bosom, caressing the sides of her bra-clad breasts with my hands. I breathed in the warmth of her chest, her soft flesh pressing against my face as a flood of electricity pulsed thru me. I shivered and pulled back to see her heaving chest, slightly red from the apparent scraping of my whiskers.
As I stood she stayed where she was, looking at me expectantly. "Yes?" she said.
I unzipped and pulled out my now quickly hardening cock, teasing my balls out too from behind the zipper seam. I was going to say "Open up" or something equally charming but she was already reaching out to guide me into her waiting mouth. She leaned forward, her boobs straining against the bra. I was going to fucking wreck those tits.
