Her hands went to her breasts again, rolling her nipples gently in her fingers, softly massaging and lifting them. She cupped them in her hands, the s...ft skin on their underside slick with the soapy water. She loved the weight of them in her hands, loved the way it felt to be touched there, gently but firmly. She let them go, and ran her slippery hands over her belly, tracing circles around her navel. She arched her back, letting the water support her weight. She slid her hands behind her,. "I'm FBI," she insisted when I didn't comment.I had been focusing on her breasts. Hanging between them was her FBI identification."Oh."Why was she telling me? Have I done something that removed me from suspicion of any wrongdoing? Was she about to arrest me?"Hold that thought. If we've got to stop seeing each other, why don't we enjoy this one more time? I've never done it with an FBI special agent in, uh, uniform."She looked down at her ID. "Is that what this is?"She was amenable to my. More

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