Greedily, I oblige. Caress them in both hands, lifting from beneath and letting them bounce to sway and jiggle, and then roll her nipples between my thumb and forefinger. Even though I'm barely squeezing, Ember gasps, flinching.
My god, she's so responsive, so sensitive.
I lean over her, half-kneeling on the edge of the bed, and claim her mouth while kneading her tits—squeezing, caressing, squeezing. She moans into my mouth and drives her eager tongue against mine, tasting me, probing, teasing—when I twist my tongue against hers, she retreats; when I deepen the kiss, she pulls back, only to surge up to deepen it when I accept her pulling back, swiping her tongue into my mouth when mine retreats.
I pinch one nipple, exploring her sensitivity. The first pinch is gentle, a slight squeeze; she gasps into the kiss, mouth quivering. I pinch again, harder; she gasps.
"Harder, Fee," she breathes. "Pinch my nipples hard."
I growl, letting them go and then scrubbing my hands up her belly to gather her tits into my hands once more, now pinching both nipples at the same time, and now I pinch as hard as I dare, which feels too hard, in my own mind.
She bucks up with a shrill cry, hips leaving the bed. "FUCK!" she rasps, her voice hoarse from crying. "Yes, god yes. Again, Fee. Please. Harder."
My god—is she even real? Is this happening? This has to be a wet dream, a fantasy from which I'm about to wake up.
Caressing gently, I let my hands soar the expanse of her breasts, circling them at their base against her chest, down their length to the plump, fat, round ends, rubbing my thumbs over the pale circles of her areolae, and then raking my thumbnails over her nipples. She whimpers, shuddering, her hands diving into her hair to grasp and pull as she arches into my touch, seeking more.
Growling eagerly, I suckle a nipple into my mouth, flattening it between tongue and the roof of my mouth, sucking hard. At the same time, I roll the other one between thumb and forefinger, squeezing harder by increments.
Ember snarls, a low ravenous growl in the back of her throat, a sound of raw female arousal, predatory need. Her hips flex, driving and sinking as I suckle and pinch her nipples, alternating now, sucking on one and pinching the other and then switching.
The harder I pinch and suckle, the more frantic the questing drive of her hips.
Could she come just from this?
God, that would be amazing. I’ve heard it's possible, but I've never witnessed it.
"Fee, please," she breathes, her voice shrill and breathy. "Don’t stop. Feels too fucking good."
So I keep going—pinching, twisting, and sucking, licking, kissing, and compressing with my lips. And with each touch, she pants and whimpers more loudly, more eagerly. Her hands go to my head as I lick and then suck on a nipple, and when I seize its plump pink thickness in my teeth, she sucks in a breath and holds it.
When I apply a bit of pressure while pinching the other so hard it seems like it should hurt her, she wails loudly, arching off the bed and then sinking down, hips quivering, belly spasming.
"Oh fuck, Fee. Fuck, fuck!” Her voice is rough with arousal, low and hoarse and wild. “Yes, fuck, yes."
"Gonna come for me, Ember?" I whisper.
"Uh-huh," she whimpers. "Just—just don't stop."
"Fuck no."
She rakes her hands down my back, hunting for the hem of my shirt—she finds it and rips it off of me with mad aggression, and then her fingernails dig into my shoulders as I bite her nipple with gentle but increasing force, until she shrieks in a mix of pain and pleasure and pushes at me in a subtle gesture. I let her nipple pop free and soothe it with licks and kisses that make her moan, caressing her tit with my hands, strumming her nipple with my fingers, faster and faster.
Her hips buck and dip, and she whimpers; fingernails raking down my spine, she leaves trails of fire on my back. Down, down, and then her hands dive under my underwear to clutch at my ass, pulling at me, clawing, digging nails in as I move my mouth to the nipple I was just strumming, tweaking and twiddling the one I was just biting.
She's panting now, quick short gasps in time with the flexing of her hips.
"Fee!" she whimpers. "Oh fuck, oh god. You're—oh, oh, ohhh, Fee!"
She yanks me down against her, grinding her denim-covered sex against the hard ridge of my cock that is still sheathed behind my boxer briefs.
"Ember!" I breathe, "Come for me, sweetheart. I know you're close."
“Hard!" she pants, breathless. "Pinch them both as hard as you can, Fee. Now—right now. Fuck, please, please, please."
I slash my mouth onto hers and demand her tongue, balancing above her as I caress her breasts gently, exploring the weight and length and softness of them yet again, finally squeezing her hardened nipples. Harder, and harder, while kissing her. She thrusts her tongue into my mouth in mimicry of fucking, to the same rhythm of her hips' thrusting against me. She shoves my jeans down further, pressing the hard ridge of my aching cock against the rough line of denim that is the crotch seam of her shorts, and I pinch harder yet, until I'm squeezing almost as hard as I can.
With a hoarse scream, her hips buck up against mine and stay there, shaking and shuddering as she arches off the bed, mouth open wide as the voiced scream dissolves with the emptying of her lungs, giving way to a silent scream. I pinch her nipples in a pulsing pattern, and she catches her breath, sucking in a whimper.
