How To Draw Female Chest Novels & Stories

She downed the shot in her cup before she gently placed it back on the table without as much as a grimace. It was impossible to stop my eyes from straying down to her breasts as they pushed against the top of the fabric with each inhale. My molars smashed together as she ran her delicate fingers across the right side of her chest twice as if she were trying to draw my attention while feigning an itch. Little did she know that she didn't need to do anything to grab my attention, it was already hers.

The girl was slender and petite, she had an hourglass figure and the almost transparent bluish dress she was wearing, hugged her curves tightly, and flowed down her knees like it was made of water. It was shimmering like the surface of a river and she sashayed her hips as she stepped aside and examined Jasper…or rather her artwork on his chest... Her long, slender hands held a quill that she was twirling in her hand and examining whatever she had created. My eyes narrowed and I had been so focused on her sitting on Jasper’s lap that I did not even register that she had been inking on his chest. His broad torso was covered in a tattoo and she was inspecting it curiously.

This sensation spread from the nipple to the areola, and then deeper into her chest. Her breathing became heavier. Air was drawn in through her nostrils, making a “hisssing” sound as it passed through the nasal conchae. It then filled her lungs. As the chest expanded under the pressure of the air, the steel wire of her bra pressed tighter against her chest. When she exhaled, air was forced out through her lips, accompanied by a low, deep “hahh” sound that seemed to originate from deep within her chest.

And quite frankly, it did. I think of the sexual activities we did, and I take my hands up my chest and give me breast a little press. I use my fingers to look for my nipples and give it a little squeeze. I bring my breast out of my dress and place a leg on my table. And my skirt rolls up, revealing my pants. I use one hand to romance my breast and the other goes down to my pants. I push my pants to the corner of my legs, revealing my cleanly shaved vagina to the walls.

There was something in his look; possibly Claire was aroused by touching me; I also liked that she did it to me; nothing suggestive, just a soft touch, without rushing. I tried it too; With the tip of my index finger I drew the outline of her breasts, brushing each rib, her waist; your hip bone; passing through his abdomen, going all the way up to return to his chest. She groaned, closing her eyes, throwing her head back.

She rested her head on the gentle slope of the armrest and put one arm high above her head, raising her plump breasts. He wanted to capture everything, every curve, every line. The dent in her sweet lips, the pout in her nipples, the perfect V at the juncture of her thighs…Mostly he wanted the molten fire in her golden eyes to translate to the canvas. Her body, tense at first, began to relax as he began to sketch. His hand moved fluidly, shaping her curves, shading the dips and hollows of her body. He drew the fullness of her breasts and ached to cup them. She arched her back as though she knew what portion of her body he was stroking with the pencil, as though she knew and wanted his touch

Placing a kiss on her right cheek, I ripped at the cloth covering her chest, leaving her breasts naked. I grabbed her large tits and shoved my tongue into her mouth, kneading her breasts. I put my knee between her legs to keep her still as I pulled and squeezed at her tits roughly, making her nipples hard and her skin pink. Once they were erect, I put her nipples in my mouth and sucked at them.

She felt him draw in a sharp breath as his eyes rested on her breasts. She made to cover her arms over her chest. Her chest had gotten fuller since Henry and she wasn't sure he would like it but he pulled her hand away and cast her a glare before tracing his fingers down the side of her breast. Her eyes fluttered close as she arched her back towards him. Her breath came out in spurts as his fingers rounded her areola, teasing and edging her towards him.

Then I press down. A single, controlled motion. Her body jolts, a sharp tremble racing through her limbs. She whimpers again, higher, tighter, and I can see her fighting the urge to move, to cry out louder. I reach for the blade, draw it down the center of her chest, carving a line between her breasts, not deep, but enough. Just enough to bleed.

She could see the mark in the vanity mirror, his penis in his hand as he jerked off. She turned around to give him more of a view of her lathered up pussy as she glided her fingers over the familiar contours between her legs. She began to play with her left breast making circles around her nipple. The marks strokes seemed to pick up in tempo as she freed her breasts entirely from her top. She shimmied her breasts in a dance move making them seem fuller and ripe for the sucking.