She doesn’t have enough information yet

Kira lies there panting, not saying anything. I put a hand to my forehead in mock dismay. “Wait—I’m asking you if you want me to be done, and I’ve only massaged half of you! Roll over.” In a daze, Kira does as she’s told, exposing her spectacular tits. Her nipples are large, cone-shaped, and hot pink, on smallish oval areolae.

I oil my hands up thoroughly and move to the head of the table, reaching down to wrap them around her girls. I fondle them softly, pushing them around her chest with my fingers and nuzzling their stiff pink points with my palms. I squeeze gently, feeling them pop free of my oily digits, and recapture them, filling my hands with soft, firm titflesh. I shape them with outspread hands and follow their curves with light strokes of my fingertips; I press my fingers into her skin and give her firmer caresses. I swirl a finger around each nipple, then two, then capture them with my thumbs and tug gently. “Ben,” Kira moans. “Ohhh, Ben, that feels so good . . . touch me . . . stroke my girls . . . touch me everywhere . . . I need you . . . I’ve needed you for so long . . . wanted you for so long . . .”

I shift around to the side, leaving one hand in delighted possession of a big warm oily tit and reaching the other down into Kira’s beckoning cleft. I massage her prominent button with two fingers and knead her supple globe, then bend my head to the other one. I caress it with my lips, kissing it all over, licking her oily skin and sucking in small mouthfuls of springy flesh. I spiral slowly inward to its inviting pink tip; when I take the nipple into my mouth, she sighs deeply. “Suckle me, Ben, suck my nipple,” she breathes. “I’ve dreamed of this . . .”

I gently pinch the other nipple and trace tiny circles on Kira’s pearl with one finger; she mewls and cups the back of my head with one graceful hand. I focus most of my attention on the turgid pink nubbin in my mouth. I stroke it with my lips, first gently and then more firmly, teasing its point with the tip of my tongue. I take more of her breast into my mouth, licking all around the nipple, then lashing it up and down. I fill my mouth with as much of her slick skin and supple flesh as I can, enjoying the fullness and painting her boob with my tongue. I raise my head a little, maintaining the suction to pull gently, lifting her tit off her chest, then release it and watch it bounce and jiggle; I roll and twirl the other nipple in my fingers. Kira groans and says, “Love my girls, baby . . . love my body . . .” Her breath comes faster and more shallow, and she starts to pant.

I begin suckling her nipple, slowly at first, and she pants harder. I try pulling and twisting the other nipple; she bucks her hips into my hand with a squeal. “What are you—what are you—” Kira gasps. “So good—” OK, she likes that, at least once she’s turned on. File that away. I keep pulling and twisting, taking it further, and suckle her faster and harder. She mewls and squeaks and rolls her head back and forth, her body trembling on the table. I reach my pussy hand down a little further and push my middle finger into her fuckhole, finding it a tight fit. “Aaahhh—aaaahhhh—aaaaahhhhhhh—” she pants, her voice rising.

I suckle greedily, savoring her big, soft tit in my mouth, and put my thumb on her joystick. I find the rough ridges on the front wall of her snug young cunt and squeeze my fingers together, pressing on her G-spot and clit, and Kira explodes in my hand. She drives her quim into my palm and her tit into my face, arching her back until I think only her heels and shoulders are still on the table, and screams like a wild thing. Her inner walls convulse around my finger, giving it a massage of its own; her girl-cum sprays and bubbles around my hand. She shakes and shudders in the throes of a hurricane-**** orgasm that roars on and on and on.