Page 97 of What Makes an Alien a Dad?

“Let’s see what I can do. Take off your top, please.”

She pouted, hiding a smile.

“Do I have to?”

“I need to examine you, Madam Maya. Show me exactly where it aches, tingles, and throbs.”

“I didn’t say anything about throbbing. I don’t have that particular symptom.”

“Oh, you will,” he promised to a flash of delight in her eyes. “I’ll make sure you will. And very soon, too.” He folded his arms across his chest, leaning back. “Now do as I say and remove your top.”

Dropping her gaze, she lifted a shoulder, sliding the wide strap off it.

He held his breath as the fabric of her top slid lower, revealing more of her smooth brown skin. The dusky arch of her areola came into view. Then the hard bud of the nipple popped out.

“Do you need to see this one, too?” she asked innocently, cupping her other breast through her top.

“Both...” he rasped, watching her squeeze her breast and play with the tip. “Both, please.”

Torturously slow, she tugged the other strap down too, flicking her nipple with the edge of the neckline on its way.

“What do you think?” With her hands under her breasts, she lifted them both up, as if presenting them to him.

“Fantastic. They’re just fantastic,” he muttered, forgetting all about the game and his role in it. “So hot and delicious.”

“Don’t you need to examine them, Professor?”

“Right. Of course.” He lifted his hands. “I’ll be touching your breasts now, Madam Maya. Please describe exactly what you feel when I’m doing it.”

He cupped both mounds with his hands. Much larger than hers, his hands fit around each breast perfectly. He massaged them, gently squeezing the nipples between his fingers.

She gasped, rubbing her core against his thigh.

“It feels good, Professor. So, so good.”

He kept his voice steady and impassive, despite the lust raging through his body. “More tingling or less?”

“More...” She moaned, arching her back. “Definitely more.”

“Good.” He flicked his tongue out, wrapping the tip around her erect nipple.

She tilted her head down, watching his tongue squeeze and tug.

“What are you doing, Professor?”

He retrieved his tongue.

“Taste test,” he explained. “A regular part of an examination.”

With his arm around her middle, he drew her closer, then sucked the entire tip of her breast into his mouth. She gripped the fur on the back of his head. The tug of her fingers sent ripples of arousal down his chest and to his groin.

She shifted closer, sliding along the hard ridge of his erection. He swallowed a groan, rolling the bud of her nipple between his teeth.

“Does the taste test need to be done on all my parts that ache and throb?” she asked.

“So, there is throbbing present, now?” he enquired in his best professional tone of voice, though it was nearly impossible to maintain it with her tit in his mouth.

“Oh, it is present, Professor. Just as you said it would be.”

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