Me: di, yh kya hai? Maine saare kapde utaarne ko bola tha, ar aapne to bus top utara hai.Di: mujhe sharam aati hai. Mai isse jyada nahi kar sakti. Tu ...era bhai hai isliye maine itna kar diya. Ab nahi. Me: kya di. Sharam waali kya baat hai, mai aapka bhai to hu, ar itna trust to aap kar hi sakti ho mujhpe. Pata ni usne phir se kya socha, ar sharmate hue apni bra bhi khol di, ar apne haato se apne boobs dhak liye. Pr koi faayda nahi tha qki jb usne apni bra kholi to maine uske boobs dekh liye. “Oh Kat they are so perfect”…then his hand was on my left breast. He squeezed…”ummmm so firm, you are right Kat. I thought they would be perfect and they are.”Thanks Mr. D’Angelo.What he did before on the outside of my blouse he did again: alternating rubbing, squeezing, pinching and pulling on my nipples. …mmmm…..was my response, as it felt good.“You like that Kat?”“Yes”“Then you will like this even better.” He started gently and slowly circling my nipples with his tongue, he knew what he was. But when he placed his trust in love, without question or doubt, the speed at which he fell reached epic velocities. For he had forgotten one basic fact, something so true to the nature of love that it shamed him to realize that it had ever escaped his consciousness – he was not falling alone. Every push was a push against his love, when he struggled for control, he fought against her. Far too often their inability to work together resulted in a writhing, spinning, but ultimately stationary. She asked –“Is it too big?”I said –“ Yes for the photo I want it is. But don’t worry I have an idea.”I gave her a pillow and said her to put this below her stomach. Now she was up enough for bed so I could shoot here hanging breasts. Only the tip was touching to the bed sheet and theses photos become very sexy. Now I told her to give some seductive face expressions which she did nicely.Now we took a break. She watched her photos while I was thinking about what could be next theme.“Have you ever.