Her fingers kept going—fourth button, fifth, all the way down—until the blouse was fully open. Then, with a slow roll of her shoulders, she shrugged it off completely, letting the fabric slide down her arms and pool at her feet.
She just stood there, letting me take in the view. The black lace bra was a masterpiece—delicate, sheer in places, struggling to hold the sheer weight of her massive tits.
They rose and fell with each breath, creamy skin spilling over the cups, deep cleavage glistening faintly with a sheen of warmth.
She reached behind her back, arching slightly as her fingers searched for the clasp. A small, frustrated sound escaped her lips when it didn't give right away.
"There it is," she said, voice husky, eyes locked on mine. "Your first test, Alex. Come help me with this bra. Let's see just how focused you really are."
