“Squirt it right onto me, slave,” she orders.
My hands trembling I do as directed, spurting pearly gobs, drops and streams of soap from the nozzle of the bottle all over those magnificent t**s in an obvious simulation of ejaculation that I can’t help but whimper in distress. Then burning with such maddening lust that I can’t believe I don’t just spontaneously combust I fill my hands with Mistress’ breasts and begin lovingly smearing and soaping them.
Mistress arches her back further, pushing them more firmly into my palms. She shifts closer to me, until we’re face to face less than a foot apart. Water, soap, and bath oil render her skin exquisitely slippery, and the way my hands slide frictionlessly over and around those firm springy rounds is heaven and hell all at once. Nevertheless I
