He was panting slightly, his mouth open and there was this hunger in his eyes as he looked at my body, as he looked at his own hand cupping my boob. ... ‘Don’t do this.’ I said. ‘Do what?’ He said innocently. ‘I’m just.... I... I can’t just leave you like this. It’s my duty... a pretty woman in need of satisfaction... It’s my duty to please you.’ He was stuttering and blushing, his fingers pressing into my boob.. ‘If you want to please me, you have to stop groping me.’ I said. . If nothing happened, I would just make up a story, tell him that I had let a guy touch me. Maybe I'd say Aaron did, since he was a "stranger." That particular evening was like sauna, so I decided to wear a thin little silk midriff camisole, whose scoop neck was maybe just a teeny bit too low and a size too small as well. The thread-like spaghetti straps looked like they would likely burst under the force of my boobs straining against the thin, see-through fabric. The last time I had worn it,. More

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