She gave my cock a squeeze again, but I was able to keep the pattern. She started to slowly stroke my cock, but I kept my breathing regular. I wasn't ...ure how much more I could take, but I knew if I stopped her now, she would somehow make the whole encounter my fault.She had started stroking with her hand holding the middle of my shaft. Her strokes never picked up speed, but they slowly worked down the shaft, and then slowly moved up toward the head. Her thumb stroked over the head and slipped. Fucking tits, she thought with equal measures of self-disgust and pity.Of course she had heard of the nicknames. Mrs. Tits. BC -- for big chest, she supposed. Christina Cleavage. She found herself gripping tighter in frustration one of the string of pearls she habitually wore around her neck. It was never Chrissy’s idea to get implants. They had been foisted upon her 18 years ago by her first boyfriend, Ken. A large, abusive lout of an older man, he had paid for them himself a year after her. More

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