Note To Self - Sex Stories

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Note To Self

Date: 11/27/2014, Categories: Bisexual, Author: blin18, Rating: 6, Source: LushStories

traps pretty hard with barbell shrugs, and my breasts leaped up so hard they bounced, closing together almost to the point of forming cleavage. “Holy cripes!” Susan blurted, “Do that again!” She was watching me, eyes wide and mouth open in what might have been horror or amazement. Showing off a bit, I flexed one side and then other, making them bounce independently. Susan took a stunned half step towards me with her hand reaching out before she realised what she was doing and pulled back with a start, like she’d touched something hot. “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” she apologised, blinking, but looking directly at me now while I still watched her in the mirror. “Shit, I nearly reached out and touched them … Shit! I said ‘shit’!” “Yeah, clean up that potty mouth,” I laughed. “You can’t use that kind of fucking language in front of me.” I watched in the mirror as she looked up at my face and laughed nervously. I flexed my chest on the side closest to her one more time and the breast jumped again, startling a surprised “Oh” from her. I was still buzzing from the laughter and arousal and charmed by her girlish reaction to my showing off; the next thing I said just came out before I could edit it. “You can touch them if you want,” I invited. “What?” She looked back up at my face. “Are you sure?” I wasn’t sure, but my heart had just kicked up a notch and I was too proud to back down. “Sure, knock yourself out,” I said with a casual note that belied the tension I felt. “Just no tongue, you ... lesbo bitch.” That disarmed her and she laughed again, double-checking my smirk to make sure I wasn’t serious. I kept facing forwards, watching in the mirror as she stepped towards me, looking down gravely at my breasts. Moving like treacle, she brought one hand slowly up, hovering uncertainly below its target before she found a new surge of courage – or maybe it was that professional instinct kicking back in – and closed her palm beneath me with her thumb above the nipple; my C-cup too big for her small hand to support completely. Oh man, it most definitely did not feel like a doctor holding me. I was standing in a body-builder pose with my feet apart and arms out to the side – although my lean, cut muscles are nothing like a body-builder’s – and Susan had come closer than she probably intended, so now my arm was nestled between her soft breasts, sending confusing tingling messages shooting through my body. She seemed at least as nervous as me and I could feel tiny twitches through her fingertips as she gently cupped me; it was like she was concentrating on trying not to squeeze. “Okay, go,” she said softly. I gave it another hard flex and startled her again, involuntarily squeezing me and making my large nipple bulge out between her fingers and thumb. “Oh jeepers! Your boobs have muscles!” “It’s just the traps,” I explained. “They’re behind and a bit above your breast. You can build them up with …” The expression on her face stopped me. She was still cupping my breast, but ...