"Did I mention I hate moving?" I asked my boyfriend Jack, after I had carried what seemed to be my millionth box up a flight of stairs and into our new apartment. All he could do was smile and nod; he was as worn out as I was from a long day of moving.
The two of us had been together for a year and a half before we decided to take the plunge and move in together, and let me say is was quite a daunting prospect. Being only 20, this was the first time I had ever lived away from home, and the thought of it really did scare me. Jack, who at 28 was a few years older than me, couldn't see what all the fuss was about. I mean we were only moving half an hour's drive from my parent's house, and he had himself moved out of home when he was only 17. Oh well, I might have been nervous about the thought of living away from home, but to tell you the truth I was also very excited.
As I got to the top of the stairs and put the box I was carrying down in what would be our new living room, I decided I'd worked hard enough to earn a little break. I went and grabbed a beer out of the fridge, which we had thankfully moved in at the start of the day, and took a seat on one of the more sturdy looking boxes. Rubbing the back of my sore neck, I took a sip from the cool bottle and instantly felt better. I don't know whether it was all down to the fact I was off my feet for the first time in 10 hours, or that the beer had been so icy cold it immediately made my milky skin cover in goosebumps.
Sitting back for a minute somehow made me aware of the fact my white tank top had become translucent from my sweat. Now my cleavage was clearly visible to all who looked. Not that I had anything to be ashamed about; a small C-cup suited my slender, 5"3 body quite nicely, and I mean Jack had never complained, but a quick change of top would help me cool down, and hopefully help me shake that sticky feeling that comes with sweating after a hard day's work. I put the beer on the counter after taking one last mouthful, and started checking labels on the boxes we had already moved into the apartment. 'Anna's Clothes,' was written in big, black marker on the side of one of the medium sized boxes which was just out of view of the front door, so I didn't bother to close it when I removed my soaked tank top and began searching through the box for a replacement.
"That's a good look for you," Jack startled me as he appeared in the doorway holding a rather heavy looking box, and he spoke with a sexy grin. "Maybe if you stay dressed like that for a while, it would help you cool down." He took a step inside, shut the door and put the box down in front of him. Stepping over it, he walked towards me and kissed me. His tall, 6"6 frame forced me to stand on my toes just so I could get my tongue past his lips. Deeper still we kissed, tongues dancing together, his large hands tracing their way over my hips and up towards my breasts, still encased in a lacy pink bra that barely held my breasts anymore. A small moan escaped my lips as Jack pulled my bra down and began to tease me, running soft fingertips over my nipples, making them harden even more than they already had.
"I love your tits," Jack said to me whilst kissing my neck, and I knew this was true. I could feel Jack's cock getting harder through the fabric of his shorts as he kneaded and caressed my breasts, and I knew he wouldn't be able to take much more before he had to have me.
