near my boob,” and “He’s going to touch my boob.”
When his hand finally made it over the rim of my bra and that first contact happened, I felt him stop breathing. He stopped kissing. He s topped everything. His hand gently rubbed on the underside of my left breast and the rest of our bodies froze. His hand moved up and over the mound and the vibrations his hand made on the cotton fabric brought new zings of arousal to my body. My mouth opened without permission and I made a noise against his lips that sounded like a whimper.
Our faces were just centimeters from each other and I saw his eyes searching for mine. Our eyes connected, our bodies rigid with the new sensations of excitement coursing through us, Asher moved his hand to fully cup me. Gently squeezing, softly gripping, he seemed to be taking great care in familiarizing himself with my breast. His other hand slipped beneath the fabric of my shirt and slid up along my back, the tips of his fingers sneaking beneath my bra strap.
His thumb brushed over my nipple and the jolts of sensation zipped through my whole body, causing me to gasp.
“Is this ok? Are you ok?” Asher asked, his hands stilling.
“Yes,” I said as I pressed a kiss against his lips. “It just feels, uh, really good.” I instantly felt the heat of my blush creep over my face. His face, however, was overcome with a smug look of satisfaction.
He kissed me again, a little harder than our previous kisses, more insistent. His hands roamed a little more freely, his confidence bolstered by my admission. I felt his hand on my back rubbing against the strap of my bra and I knew he was silently asking for permission to unclasp it. My mind ran at hyper-speed. I loved the way he made my body feel and I wanted him to continue, but I just kept thinking about how I was straddling him on a park bench. Then his thumb did that brush-over-my-nipple thing again and any self-control I thought I had went out the window.
I reached behind my back and unclasped my bra for him, assuming he’d have a hard time with it on his own. My bra hung loosely from my shoulders, only being kept on by the shirt I was still wearing, but he had enough room to sneak his hand beneath the fabric and touch me, skin on skin.
“Are you sure, Bit?”
If my eyes had been open he would have seen me roll them. What kind of girl unclasps her bra and then tells the boy whose lap she’s sitting on not to touch? But my arousal and need at the moment prevented my snarky comment from verbalizing. I just nodded and said, “Please.” My voice sounded strained and deep. I don’t recall ever hearing my voice like that before. He didn’t waste any time and I felt him move his hand beneath the underwire, his soft fingertips slowly moving over the bare skin of my breast. His other hand came from behind my back and moved to tend to the neglected one.
He stopped kissing me and it seemed he couldn’t actually do two things at once at the moment. He pressed his forehead against mine, his hands holding me, and I tried to ignore the hardness I felt building beneath me. I felt his erections before, but never once had I been brave enough to talk about them, let alone try to touch him.
It was my turn to wear a smug grin. He seemed to be lost in me, really enjoying th e moment. His hands moved slowly, but covered a lot of ground. Suddenly, I felt him firmly pinch both of my nipples and give them a gentle tug.
“Ah!” I yelped, half in surprise and half in a state of why-the-hell-does-that-feel-so-good? He instantly stopped at my gasp and rubbed his thumbs over them. I was thrown into a new level of sensation overload and bit my lip to try and not cry out again. An “Mmmmm” did manage to slip past my lips which seemed to catch his attention and his mouth found mine again. He began kissing me while lazily thumbing
When his hand finally made it over the rim of my bra and that first contact happened, I felt him stop breathing. He stopped kissing. He s topped everything. His hand gently rubbed on the underside of my left breast and the rest of our bodies froze. His hand moved up and over the mound and the vibrations his hand made on the cotton fabric brought new zings of arousal to my body. My mouth opened without permission and I made a noise against his lips that sounded like a whimper.
Our faces were just centimeters from each other and I saw his eyes searching for mine. Our eyes connected, our bodies rigid with the new sensations of excitement coursing through us, Asher moved his hand to fully cup me. Gently squeezing, softly gripping, he seemed to be taking great care in familiarizing himself with my breast. His other hand slipped beneath the fabric of my shirt and slid up along my back, the tips of his fingers sneaking beneath my bra strap.
His thumb brushed over my nipple and the jolts of sensation zipped through my whole body, causing me to gasp.
“Is this ok? Are you ok?” Asher asked, his hands stilling.
“Yes,” I said as I pressed a kiss against his lips. “It just feels, uh, really good.” I instantly felt the heat of my blush creep over my face. His face, however, was overcome with a smug look of satisfaction.
He kissed me again, a little harder than our previous kisses, more insistent. His hands roamed a little more freely, his confidence bolstered by my admission. I felt his hand on my back rubbing against the strap of my bra and I knew he was silently asking for permission to unclasp it. My mind ran at hyper-speed. I loved the way he made my body feel and I wanted him to continue, but I just kept thinking about how I was straddling him on a park bench. Then his thumb did that brush-over-my-nipple thing again and any self-control I thought I had went out the window.
I reached behind my back and unclasped my bra for him, assuming he’d have a hard time with it on his own. My bra hung loosely from my shoulders, only being kept on by the shirt I was still wearing, but he had enough room to sneak his hand beneath the fabric and touch me, skin on skin.
“Are you sure, Bit?”
If my eyes had been open he would have seen me roll them. What kind of girl unclasps her bra and then tells the boy whose lap she’s sitting on not to touch? But my arousal and need at the moment prevented my snarky comment from verbalizing. I just nodded and said, “Please.” My voice sounded strained and deep. I don’t recall ever hearing my voice like that before. He didn’t waste any time and I felt him move his hand beneath the underwire, his soft fingertips slowly moving over the bare skin of my breast. His other hand came from behind my back and moved to tend to the neglected one.
He stopped kissing me and it seemed he couldn’t actually do two things at once at the moment. He pressed his forehead against mine, his hands holding me, and I tried to ignore the hardness I felt building beneath me. I felt his erections before, but never once had I been brave enough to talk about them, let alone try to touch him.
It was my turn to wear a smug grin. He seemed to be lost in me, really enjoying th e moment. His hands moved slowly, but covered a lot of ground. Suddenly, I felt him firmly pinch both of my nipples and give them a gentle tug.
“Ah!” I yelped, half in surprise and half in a state of why-the-hell-does-that-feel-so-good? He instantly stopped at my gasp and rubbed his thumbs over them. I was thrown into a new level of sensation overload and bit my lip to try and not cry out again. An “Mmmmm” did manage to slip past my lips which seemed to catch his attention and his mouth found mine again. He began kissing me while lazily thumbing
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