Like an itch you can not scratch, At least not publicly, Not wishing to look but wanted to see, Her youthful beauty staring at me. The phantom was gig...ling with glee. I looked sheepishly from my book, To her sensual long fingered hands, Not a ring she wore left or right, And thought what kind of man am I, Wondering if she was tight or just right. A cup of brew was brought to me, Steaming hot latte, light and tasty, A puzzled look I gave the cook, “From the lovely young lady,” His replied on. .." moving slightly to feel it better inside her, "... just right." Opening her eyes she moves in for another passionate kiss, and after about half a minute of tongue twisting, she lies down on his chest, her breasts compressing and forming a warm cushioning feeling of loving bodies against him - with the faint feeling of her tight nipples stabbing into him. His hands being bound by the cuffs just below her breasts gives him no choice but to cup the outsides of her breasts... sending a twitch. More

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