She was not thrashing. Not yet. But what her body felt like against his ardent attention was nothing less than sheer blossoming lust without a compass. Tense and her breasts rose and fell like she was running a marathon. Her nipples gathered and her breasts flushed in his cupped hand.  He gave a quick look see to her eyes. Her cheeks were painted with a light shade of blush.<br/><br/>Tonight, he decided.<br/><br/>His tongue moved gently over the clip. Tracing along her nipple flesh on the teeth. The thumb and first two finger of his other hand slowly moving the breast to extract more sensation.<br/><br/>His other hand, fingers spread wide caressed down her body. Moving only inches with each breath before stopping and massaging. Getting her use to his touch. To the rough calloused fingers. The gentle encouragement he was about to bring to heat. A heat she had never endured before.<br/><br/>His fingers reached the top seam of fabric and followed along it from her center to her left hip then slowly back to her right. Touching and pressing a finger between the material and her soft skin. Moving slowly fully one direction before turning to retrace the distance back to the other.<br/><br/>Yes, tonight, he thought.<br/><br/><br/>