Her breathing was shallow, but she was doing her best to control it. He watched them jiggle in front of him with each intake of breath. He smiled. Looking into her eyes, he covered both breasts and at once began to massage them. She closed her eyes and arched her head back with a moan. His kneeling hands felt so good and relaxing against her skin. It was as if his fingers had a direct connection to her pussy, making it wetter with each squeeze and stroke. She focused on the heat of his hands on her nipples. It was a slow torture. It built with each second—strong, but not...