Fondling Breasts

Roseline's stomach turned and her fist clenched tightly around the handle of the big travel box beside her. She heard the clanging sound of the metallic head of Thompson's belt meeting the ground. Next, quite footsteps. Then, Thompson appeared in her view, like a ghost she didn't believe existed. He was completely bare, with his hairy chest rising and falling slowly, his cock shooting out in front like a gun ready to be fired, his balls bloated from desire, swinging from side to side as he walked closer to bed. Roseline's feet stuck to the ground and her eyes refused to blink as they looked on. "That's it, my boy. Hmm! I like what I see", the red hair gasped, rolling her eyes longingly at Thompson. As Thompson climbed unto the bed, his eyes totally locked in hers, she drew her breasts closer him, then, proceeded to rock the big pumpkins against the flushed skin of his face. "You like them?", she asked, moaning lightly. Thompson paused. Then, in a defiant move of uncontrollable desire, dug his chin into her breasts, burying his entire face in them. "Ouch", she gasped, then broke into a weak laugh, pushing his head more into her chest. "The damn bra", she spoke again, twisting uncomfortably as she threw her hands behind her to unhook the material. But Thompson caught her hands. Without words, his head still hidden in her cleavage, he slowly returned her hands to his head. Obliging to his silent command, she cackled loudly, pressing her chest even more into his face and then, with her tongue, glided across his neck and ears hungrily. Roseline froze. She wanted to scream but in that moment, she forgot how to.

She was his first light. He became her greatest shadow. She babysat him. And he fell in love. Years ago, 19 years old Olivia Wilde left behind a child, who loved her in silence, now she works for the man he's become. Fabian Stone is young, ruthless, unreadable and far too powerful. But buried beneath the cold exterior, is the same soul that once sketched her heart on torn paper and whispered promises he never got to keep. She shouldn't want him. He shouldn't still burn for her. But the past doesn't forget, and neither does he. ~~~ "Strip Olivia" he said, his voice dripping of command. I immediately obeyed, like I was programmed to follow all his instructions. My hand reached for my top and I slowly took it off staring him in the eyes. Next was my pants, then my bra, my breasts spilling from their confinement and I rubbed them, playing with my already hard nipples. His eyes were clouded with lust and something else I couldn't read. My hand reach for my panties, slowly taking it off, then tossing it where my other pile of clothing laid. I sat on the desk, legs spread, giving him a show of my already wet cunt. I heard him groan, a hot and sexy groan and I smirked, already proud of myself. I fingered myself, imagining it to be his long, thick hands, I close my eyes, reeling in the moment when his voice dripping command boomed, "Don't cum without me telling you to"