She shook her head no when he said she could take more.  She was sure that she was going explode at any second, her body ripped apart, unable to contain anymore.  Cynthia's body nearly jerked off the couch when his hot, wet mouth closed over her nipple, her fingers knotted in his hair, holding him to her desperately.  His hand on her stomach felt big and warm, her hips rising with each downward spiral, her body begging his to end the torture.<br/><br/>Her free hand trailed over his chest, her fingers stopping to circle his flat nipple, then sliding lower across his hard stomach, lightly scratching her nails over his skin.  Her wrist brushed across the head of his straining member, the bead of moisture that had gathered there smeared across her skin, cooling rapidly in the cool air of the room.  Her eyes raised to his as she tentatively touched him with the tip of one finger, marveling at the texture of the skin stretched across his thickness.  Her fingers closed around him, exploring his length and girth with a soft touch.<br/>