It was playtime…so I played.

I slowed as I approached her, taking a moment to admire the height difference between us. It made me smile. I raised her chin with my finger and leaned in for a kiss, but she pulled away, her eyes filled with a hundred things to tell me. I looked at her, silently daring her to. But still, she kept quiet.

Don’t like it? Don’t want it? Or do you like it? Do you want it? Do you fucking love it? Are you used to it by now? Do you hate the fact that you crave it? Do you hate the fact that you hate it but say and do nothing to stop it?

All questions she would never answer. Not aloud, anyway. And that was okay. I preferred driving to being a passenger. Apparently she preferred the latter, because she barely protested when my hand pressed against her right breast. She did lightly gasp and jump just a little at my sudden, inappropriate touch. But she just couldn’t even **** herself to convincingly move my hand.

Yes, she did try to dig her fingers under my hand to get me to stop, but it was weak. A half-hearted attempt at protecting her virtue. The grip she had around the outside of my hand stopped being frantic when I gently pushed her backward, and when she touched the edge of her desk I kept nudging her. She reluctantly followed my lead and raised up onto her tippy toes as her ass slid onto her desk. Her body was still tense as she sat on her desk, my hand firmly kneading her breast.

She let out a slightly annoyed, uneasy sigh. She probably wanted me to stop. She was a good girl, after all. She could have asked, and I might have.

Might have.

My right hand weaved its fingers through the back of her head and felt her soft, silky hair. It smelled nice, and so did she. She breathed through her nose quietly but quickly, her nerves speeding up her heart rate.

I inched closer until my legs straddled her left leg, her feet dangling a few inches off the floor. I gently closed my fingers into a fist, her hair threaded through them securely. Just to hold her there.

Her hands shot down to the bottom of her hoodie when she felt my left hand slide inside it. She tightly grabbed at the fabric of her hoodie and tried to hold it down, and while she put up more of a fight now, as the panic of what my intentions were set it, she was really no match for me. If I wanted to put my hand inside her shirt, it was going to happen. And I wanted to.

My hand slid up the soft skin of her belly up to her bra. The sounds of a quiet struggle were brief, but enough to turn me on. Something about her voice…even her breath…she just got me going. And when she put up a fight it just added to my arousal. Hers too, I think, although she would never admit it.

Her hand feebly slapped at mine, and I slowly and firmly strengthened my grip around her hair, ever so gently pulling her hair as my fist tightened. She inhaled deeply through her nose, the subtle pain sending an odd sensation of excitement through her. I could feel it. Sense it. Hear it in her breath.

I kept my fist tightened for a few moments longer, then let go and reached around the front of her and gently clasped her hand in mine, pulling it away from her chest and guiding it down to my crotch. She struggled when she realized what I was doing, and made quiet sounds of protest. Uneasy, nervous noises that barely registered as audible. There, Miss Laura. Now you can say you tried. Tried to fight me. Tried to resist. God will understand, and forgive you. He is watching, after all, isn’t He?

My lips curled into a lewd smirk when my hand made hers touch the large bulge in the front of my jeans. Not quite hard, but swollen. Heavy.

“You like that?” I asked, not expecting or receiving an answer. “Fucking touch it. Mmm.” I pressed her **** hand as the fingers of my other hand slipped up under her bra, my hand quickly cupping her small breast. I felt her already hard nipple softly poke into the palm of my hand. “I know you like this,” I said playfully, telling her what her body wanted to hear, even if her ears didn't.

She continued to make quiet sounds of ****. Unease. Unwillingness, even as my bulge filled the palm of her small hand. Soft meat, which was already slowly hardening from her **** fondling. “It’s all for you,” I said, and she inhaled sharply when my thumb and index finger gently rolled her nipple between them, subtly pinching as I twisted it between my fingers. “Don’t fucking stop.”

I let my hand slide off of hers and grit my teeth as I exhaled. Her hand remained there, unmoving yet softly cradling my bulge. Feeling its warmth. It’s growing desire. I slowly pulled up her hoodie with my now free hand, and while she squirmed a bit, and made those heavenly noises of ****, the bottom of her hoodie smoothly rose up, guided by my hand, until it came to rest on top of her bra, and breasts just ample enough to hold it there as it bunched atop them.

She inhaled sharply and held her breath when I lifted her bra. Her hands shot up to cover herself. Well, one hand. The other was on top of mine as I palmed her left breast. “Oh, Laura,” I softly said. “They’re amazing. Let me see.” Now, I could have easily lifted her hand from her right breast, but I didn’t want to go that route. Easy, sure. But not very gentlemanly. After all, no girl wants to be forcefully exposed like that. At least, not the first time. I smiled at the thought of many times, which was already an inevitable definite in my mind.

“I bet they’re as perfect as the rest of you,” I gently encouraged her. “Let me see. I just wanna look at them.” Her hand held up an admirable fight, but her body, knowing what it does about me and the abilities I have to make it feel a…certain way, my fingertips were allowed to gently slide until her gripping palm, which wasn’t holding on so tightly anymore. She was breathing so quickly. So quietly. I could feel how quickly her heart was beating on the palm of my hand that firmly held her left breast.

It was absolutely pounding. I bit my lip and smiled, sliding my fingers under her hand until I held that breast too. Both tits in my hands. Her hands on top of mine. Can you imagine if someone walked in here right now? Oh my fucking God.

Her eyes were cast down, but I had no idea if she was looking at the floor out of embarrassment, or looking at the bulge she lightly cradled. Her inexperience with it in her hand was a huge turn-on. Like, I can’t even describe it. Unless you’ve experienced it, which I highly recommend…I mean I just can’t explain what it feels like. I’m not that good with words, I’m sorry.

I squeezed her tits and she tried to stifle a sharp moan. It surprised her. That I did it and apparently how it felt, too. Oh I’m full of surprises for you, Miss Laura. Nice fucking tits. I squeezed them again, lightly humming to show her how much fun I was having. How much I loved having her in my hands like this. I exhaled deeply, lust warming my crotch. Making my dick swell proudly.

Can you feel it?

I wanted to ask her so bad. But it would have been pointless to ask. Of course she felt it. Fuck. I bet her hand would look good wrapped around my cock. Stroking it. Milking it. I imagined it, along with her other hand on my balls, and I groaned, pressing my crotch firmly against her hand. She inhaled quietly but loud enough for me to hear, then a small sound escaped her throat before she quickly and quietly cleared It.

It was an ‘oh my’ kind of sound, and made me do what I did next.