Tropical Drive

"Kafi!" Olivia gasped out, her cheeks crimson as she slapped her hands over his wrist in protest. "D-Don't! That's not what we're supposed to—"

"Calm down, Mom." Kafka murmured teasingly, his tone smooth and calm despite her struggles. "Don't make it sound so scandalous. I'm just comparing. You asked me to check if the fruit's the right size, didn't you? So let me focus for a second..."

He didn't loosen his grip. Instead, he shifted his hand slightly, thumb grazing over the top curve while his other fingers pressed into the underside, lifting and weighing her breast experimentally.

"Hmm...the firmness here...it's different from the fruit. Softer, warmer...almost like velvet stretched over something tender and full."

"K-Kafi...!" She stammered, biting her lip hard to keep from making any sounds as his thumb circled lazily over her flesh. Her body betrayed her, heat coiling in her stomach even as her brain screamed for her to push him away.