Her eyes never met mine, and they never left the swell of my breasts or the curve of my belly while she prepared me for the bath. Gently she began to wash my breasts, and like magic, the nipples reared to attention and the tips tingled. Her eyes were a clear, clever yellow. A sudden shock rolled through her nipples when she felt them tug slightly, and somewhere she realized that he had reached up, ever so casually to pull on the chain. She began to drift, focusing on the sensations, until she felt his palm against her chin, gently raising her bowed head. And then, with a mind-destroying suddenness, they leap to life inside her, trembling madly. The feel of her firm young boobs was wonderful and the dress, stretched tight across the back of my hand, a sensory bonus. And then she felt his hands gently grip her upper arms, raising her up, first to her knees, then to her feet, and guiding her in trembling steps across the room. Several times her hands brushed across my belly and breasts. I tried to read something from her expression that would tell me that she was feeling different too.