His breath was hot and I delighted in the sensation of it stirring the tiny hairs on my neck as he whispered, urgently, against my skin:
"I can't move my arm."
I shifted forward a little, releasing his arm from where it had been trapped between my back and the sofa.
"Oh yes," he murmured as the pins and needles subsided. He flexed his digits, experimentally. It was good movement. I liked it. I hoped he would flex them again, only nearer my bosoms.
"Now, where were we?" he smiled, as he leaned in close again.
"We were looking for the remote control for the TV. Then somehow we began canoodling. You know how I like a canoodle."
"I'm beginning to. Should we continue?"
"Please. Only this time, to avoid circulatory problems, I think you should put that hand here and this one here."
He flexed his digits, experimentally. The experiment was an unmitigated success. All the blood went to my bosoms.
"Are you smuggling peanuts in your bra?" he asked, feeling the hard nub pressing against his hand.
"I did have a packet of M&Ms earlier..." I mused.
"Well, I'd better investigate," he said.
He unbuttoned my fitted blouse with a swift dexterity. All the digit flexing was clearly paying off.
I shrugged the silky garment off my shoulders, revealing my black lacy bra, the dark fabric contrasting beautifully with the creamy skin of my full, rounded breasts. He gazed upon my décolletage, his eyes lingering on the pulse beating frantically at the base of my throat, betraying my desire.
"Oh, you're in trouble now." He fell upon me like a pre-menstrual woman upon a packet of chocolate hobnobs.
He briefly surfaced for air. There was a crumb on his lip. His tongue lazily retrieved it.
"You've got crumbs down your cleavage," he informed me.
"I know. I usually do. That's the problem with a big cleavage."
"I shall follow the trail and see where it leads me," he announced, heading back in. "Fuck me, it really was an M&M!" He held up the errant sweet for me to see. It was a red one. I like those.
"One day," I told him, "I took off my bra at bedtime and a cornflake fell out of it. It had been there since breakfast!"
"You are my very own pick and mix counter. I shall gorge myself upon you."
I sighed, happily. It was nice to have a man get there before the seagulls.
I shifted position.
"It's this bloody thong," I explained, trying to tug it back out from where it had become uncomfortably wedged. "It's gone right up my - oh!"
"I think I've found the remote control."