Her hands started undoing my belt and pants. With a sexy smile, she dipped her hand down my pants and grabbed my big hard cock and began to stroke it....I quietly moaned into her ear."Yeah, Monica, that feels so good, don't stop." Her tits were the next thing on my mind. I quickly slid my hand up her shirt. I grabbed one of her beautiful melons and massaged it. It was not too firm, yet not too soft and at the perfect size. We resumed kissing but this time with much more passion and lust. She. Sweat beaded on her brow and her cream silk blouse clung to her clammy skin. Buttons undone, the material gaped, revealing her breasts, heaving as if desperate to escape from her satin bra."Oh, yes… right there," she cried as he slipped a finger inside.Another spasm rocked her right to the core. She squirmed. She was close, so close…A good thing too: she glanced at the clock, noting that time was passing perilously fast. In mere minutes, the room would be invaded by the company's most important. Even my father the Doctor must have been suitably impressed. They were the classic 'ski slopes'. I have never seen such pointed and shapely titties in all my life. The areolas were very puffy and the size of fifty cent coins. The color was rose pink. The nipples pointed straight out and up in front of her as though held by magic .The tits did not sag and were as smooth and perfectly shaped as I have ever seen. You ask me what size they were? I would say about a thirty two 'A or B'. As they say,. I could have lived my life content in her arms. But a little voice in the back of my head told me I was supposed to be trying to do more. Lord but adolescent boys are stupid. On about our fourth 'date' (more of a make out session really), I decided I had to find out where the limits were. I slid my hand from around her waist, up over her shirt to her breast. A sharp "No!" told me all I needed to know about the limits. Frankly, I was relieved.At least I was relieved at first. As Sharon and I.