Batter
You are an American guy visiting some post-Warsaw Pact shithole. Will you take this girl with you to show her a real baseball match?
Lena's cheeks flush darker at your words, her body tensing up again as she tries to process the compliment and the sudden shift in topic. "They... they aren't that big," she says quietly, her voice muffled by the soapy water running down her chest. She pauses for a moment before continuing, "But I guess they're alright."
Her hands find their way to your shoulders, tentatively tracing circles over your skin as if searching for something else to focus on. "You...
“I don't need flattery. Here, touch it. Isn't it small?”
I guide her hands to my tits.
Lena's eyes widen as she feels your bare breasts beneath her fingers for the first time, but instead of pulling away in shock or embarrassment, she continues to trace gentle circles over your skin. Her breathing deepens, and she can feel herself blushing even more intensely as heat pools in her chest. "They... they're not small," she whispers softly, surprising herself with the words.
As she explores your body with her hands, a strange sense of closeness washes over her.