... kissed her back, bringing his left hand up to the back of her head, digging his fingers into her hair; his right he brought up to her back, grabbing a fistful of her shirt and pulling her down against his chest. He shuddered as he felt Sam begin running her hands through his hair, down his neck, across his chest, and finally over his crotch; Freddie let out a short cry against Sam's cheek as she firmly closed her hand around his dick through the fabric of his jeans, his hips bucking involuntarily.
When Sam broke off this time, she raised herself up, pulling Freddie up along with her, so he was sitting on the edge of the bed and she was kneeling across his legs. Still grinning that same ear-to-ear smile, Sam brushed her hair back behind her shoulders and reached down for the hem of her shirt; she pulled the shirt off in a quick motion and tossed it aside onto the floor, revealing a bra colored the palest of pinks.
"Well don't start drooling," he heard Sam say. Freddie suddenly became aware that he'd been staring at the curve of her left breast, his mouth hanging open; indeed, a bead of saliva had begun to leak out of the corner of his mouth.
"Right, sorry," he said, his cheeks flaring red. He quickly closed his mouth and swallowed.
Sam sat back on her heels and gestured with two fingers in an up and down motion at him. "Shirt," she said.
"Oh, yeah," he said, nodding quickly a few times. He reached down to the hem of his shirt and pulled it...