This is supposed to be fun for her not nerve-wracking. You bottom out the zipper and pull her into a hug. She squee’s in surprise before tentatively hugging back, you pull back and flash her a morale-boosting smile, which she mirrors. Your apparent acceptance of her fills her with joy and she leans in to mirthfully poke her nose at your cheek. You retaliate by trying to fence her nosiness into submission. Amidst smiles and hot breath your free hand moves to her exposed belly. Digits swim between her sweaty fur and damp uniform—naturally drifting to her teats. Your heart rate increases as you knead and palm the fatty mound.