I ripped her button up shirt open revealing her perfect breasts which fit perfectly in her red bra. Which I ripped off of her seconds later. “Oh you...��re bad,” she said. We continued to make-out vigorously. And she was running her hands all through my long brown hair pulling a little. She seemed to love this. So I returned the favor. I kissed her on the neck and collar bone. Following her body movements. My left hand was fondling her perfect breasts my right hand around the back of her neck. I am not having sex with an eighteen-year-old boy, she thought viciously. I’m not even going to consider it! Her hands had clenched–her whole body had clenched–at the unexpected metal conflict, she forced herself to relax and placed the palms of her hands flat on her belly. God, it was so hot in here. God, she was sweating. It bothered her immensely that the combined heat and humidity, along with her anxiety would very soon cause her anti-perspirant to fail in its battle against her pores and. More

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