Before you can say a thing you have a close-call on the stairs

Unfortunately, before your senses can return with an objection you trip at the top of the stairs. The long steep staircase seems to rush toward you before you come to an abrupt stop.

"Th... thanks," you tell the guy who caught you.

"No problem. Like that, do ya?"

"Y... yeah," you say with a puzzled frown. Why wouldn't you? The alternative was a broken leg or something. Maybe even your neck.

"I thought so. I bet you'd like more too," he says.

His words make you realize abruptly that in addition to still being held up by him the hands that caught you did so by latching onto your breasts. Clearly your close-call must have rattled your senses for you to not notice that earlier.

You stiffen as you feel his hands knead the small mounds. To your embarrassment you find that your spine isn't the only part of you stiffening.

"You like that. I can feel those fat nipples harden like spikes."

You blush, though you doubt he can see it, and try to get your feet under you. But for every step you take he takes another. He leads you a couple steps down the tall, steep stairs, keeping you perpetually off-balance as his fingers digs into your chest, tugging on your engorged nipples.

"Wait..." you say, and he pauses. You reach up and grab his shoulders, marvelling at their size. For a moment your hands do their own exploring before you come back to reality, remembering that you were going to steady yourself on him so you could straighten up.