She screams into your breasts, and yet only you can hear her, or more accurately, feel her. She gasps desperately for air, choking on the absence of it – her eyes welling with tears that taste of fear and desperation. You can tell, in the weakness of her struggles, that she is now only prey – only your plaything. And so you let her breathe, though only for a single moment, before you bury her in your tits again, plunging her back into despair and suffocation.
Into Your Breasts
Love this