What did it fucking matter what he fucking thought? She was up for it, whatever he fucking was. Through the sweat that drained off her forehead onto h...er eyes she could just about see other eyes on her coming from the other dancers, but they were just the ones who weren't really getting it on yet. It felt much better for her tits to bump and wobble and rotate and sway with the music, free as the rest of her. And fuck! What's such a big deal about tits anyway?Hopping. Bopping. Sliding. Gliding.In. “You are a treasure in truth,” he groaned, cupping my small breast, a handful that fit his palm. I shivered as he massaged my nipple. It felt just like I remembered. If my proxy could cry, tears would fall down my eyes. “And you feel this?”“Of course I feel this,” I moaned, my sparkling arms going around his neck. “What do I feel like?”“Soft and smooth all at the same time. Impossibly smooth, like glass. And cool. Not warm, but not cold, either.” He thumbed my nipple.I gasped.He grinned. “But. It was totally HOT to watch this but my role was to be an observer not a participant, so I acted as a perfect gentleman and totally enjoyed what was transpiring just a few feet from me. Once again, she amazed me with her presence in front of the camera. Once they were done with the bedroom shots he suggested moving to the living area and scoped out some good places to shoot there.One series of shots he suggested was in the kitchen area. He asked her to pose looking into the freezer and as the. I was still a bit dazed. Em was right; I had never talked about children. The urge to procreate had never been more than a brief pang ... like in Morocco when I saw her with that little boy...Since Em had been sacked by the University, she hadn't been able to find any work that properly utilised her skills, she'd been blacklisted. I was her main employer, but even I had to be careful in case there were charges of nepotism from the staff, residents, or board. Being in charge did restrict my.