She reached behind her neck to pull the string holding the halter of her bikini top loose, but his hand closed over hers.“I’ll do that. Just relax...”She willingly complied, folding her arms above her head and resting her left cheek against them. She felt him tug the strings free, and the fabric against her breasts pressed beneath her slackened. There was the sound of the lotion bottle being opened, of his hands rubbing against each other and then the warmth of his palms gliding from the top of. The cups of the slip were manifestly not quite empty,the silken material betraying the nipples' contours, contours thatwere themselves made more prominent by the soft mounds from whichthey rose. And at every movement of his arms, of his body thegentle friction of the material brought home to him their new-foundsensitivity.And they were only at their beginning. Ten days would perhaps notmake much difference, even if Simon had said that the new hormonepreparations had explosive results once. More

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