Every moment in her cleavage is a new punishment. Her breasts grind and shift with each breath, pressing you tighter into the humid, perfumed chamber of her chest. The air is thick with coconut sunscreen and her natural heat, so heavy that breathing feels like drowning in steam. You can’t tell if the pounding you hear is your heart or hers, hammering like drums on either side of you.
She laughs at something a guest says, the sound vibrating through her chest like thunder, and the motion of her body smothers you deeper. You thrash weakly, but your limbs are pinned, sliding helplessly against hot, slick skin.
Finally, her voice rises above the noise: “Cover me for a sec, I need a drink.” The raft creaks as she steps off the platform.
Every stride rocks you mercilessly, her breasts bouncing with each step, pounding you from both sides. Your ribs ache; sweat mixes with sunscreen and slicks your body until you feel like you’re being swallowed alive. By the time she slips behind the shaded supply shed, you’re half-conscious.
Her fingers finally slide down into the top, pinching you carefully. For a moment, sunlight blinds you and the hot press of her skin vanishes. Then you’re dangling in front of her face, limp in her grip.
She smiles faintly, lips curved, eyes glittering with amusement. “God, look at you.” She rolls you across her palm, brushing her thumb over your chest again and again, her nail dragging along your side like the edge of a blade. “So detailed. You even feel… warm. Creepy, but kind of amazing.”
Her breath rolls over you as she lifts you closer, her lips parting slightly. You can see the gleam of her teeth, the moist shine of her lower lip as she exhales. It fogs your skin, sticky and hot.
“You got roughed up in there, huh?” she teases, tapping your stomach with her fingertip. “Guess I should take better care of my toys.” Her words are mocking, but her eyes linger on you too long, sliding up and down your body with fascination.
For a moment you think she’s going to kiss you — her lips come so close you can feel the wet heat radiating off them. But then, with a laugh, she tucks you back down into her top, pressing you into the same suffocating valley as before.
“Don’t go anywhere,” she murmurs, patting her cleavage once. “Back to the grind.” If only she knew.
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