His fingers trace my bare skin from my throat down between my breasts. This jumpsuit is skating that fine line between high fashion and Vegas bachelorette. The “V” is cut practically to my navel. It takes nothing for him to slip a hand inside the scrap of stretchy fabric. I shiver, arching into his touch as he cups my bare breast. “I want you so much,” he groans into my mouth, weighing my breast before he playfully pinches my nipple. “Ahh—yes,” I hiss in reply. My pussy is screaming for some attention, and I press into him with my hips, feeling his hardness.
