My hands slowly traced the outline of her neck down to her shoulders, then gently caressed her breasts through her lingerie. Her breathing became shal...ow.I leaned in, took her head in both hands, and kissed her, feeling her tender lips against mine, our tongues meeting and dancing. Releasing my hands from her head, I let them roam freely over her body, gently, feeling the curve of her breasts, round her back to her ass, squeezing her butt cheeks, still dancing with her tongue.Breaking away, I. She envisioned the ridge of her hooded clit protruding from her labia, as she knew it was, and she envisioned the tip of her clit protruding from its hood, begging to be touched, rubbed, squeezed, and even abused. Her clit was so sensitive she knew it it would be torture to be rough with it, but sometimes she needed to punish her clit in the worst way to get off in the best.Really, that was just in her imagination. She didn't want to injure herself. She didn't want to abuse her clit so much. More

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