He felt her hands caress his back, his chest, fingers at the buttons of his shirt and he mimicked them, his fingers steadier and quicker, released the buttons at the top of her dress, pulling short when the gap revealed the tiny lace bra underneath. He flicked its front opening, exposing her flesh to his view – a sight immediately covered with his mouth. His need to be closer overwhelming his conscious mind which was telling him to move slower. But it wasn’t his mind, ruling him, it was her hands doing the directing, creating the momentum and he followed her emotions, her rush to fulfillment by caressing her touching her until she lost her control and cried out for him to stop.
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