And yet I dipped my finger deeper into her bra like some curious visitor to the depths, and as I swept it slowly, my nail brushed the circumference of her areola, and she was shamed by the sudden splash of interest they seemed to feel. I grasped the top edge of the cup and slowly slid it down over her breast as if ejecting a piece of fruit from its peel, apparently enjoying its slow exposure. She tried to control herself as the fabric dragged over her n*****s, but it was maddening, or the sense of outrage was too much, or something prompted her to try one more time to resist this violation of her privacy and she twisted on the blanket and raised her shoulders to protect her breasts, she tried to kick at me or get a knee against my chest, but again, I thwarted her efforts with humiliating e
