Three feet of cock- 3

Her large, heavy breasts were now only concealed by a crimson bra, almost too small to contain them. They threatened to overflow the small, overworked cups at any moment. She giggled and bounced slightly, her tits jiggling. Peter gasped.

Batoul took the bottle of lotion from the table. “Give me your hand,” she instructed Peter. She squirted a few dollops of lotion onto his outstretched palms. She undid the clasp of her bra, but held the cups against her breasts for a few moments longer, savoring the look of desperation on Peter’s face as he strained to see more.

She released the bra. It fluttered to the ground with a whisper. Over each nipple, she kept two fingertips, using the rest of her hand, and push her breasts together, caressing them, massaging them. “Stroke your cock for me,” she ordered him, and he gladly obeyed.