“Master...!” she whimpered. “I want to make you cum.”I looked at her, we both smiled at each other. I slowly let go of her wrists and I laid b...ck on the bed. My rock hard cock was still poking above my shorts.“Take my underwear off, my slave,” I ordered.Emily did as she was told, she took them off and tossed them away. She kneeled beside me, as I lay there naked, I just admired her body. My fingertips slowly explored her skin. Every curve was divine. Her softness was perfect. The shape of her. Actually, bigger than any fake boobs too. For sure bigger than Sara, haha. Bigger than my wife's. I like my wife's boobs – they are a good healthy C cup. Still firm after two kids. How many boobs have I actually got to play with? More than fifty for sure. Over a hundred? Two hundred? Could I even go back and count them? I wonder..."Earth to Bruce. Come in Bruce". Sara is snapping her fingers inches away from my face. "Hello, I'm talking to you."I sit up straight, "Sorry, I was zoned out." Yea.. More

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