Though he’d thought that he’d had it all sorted,
Her tits were so trussed up, supported
By wires and straps,
Hooks and buckles and snaps
That all hope of a grope was soon thwarted!
Tag: brassiere
Pantomime
He unfastened her brassiere clasp.
She let out a theatrical gasp.
“Gosh, you’re naughty!” she cried.
“Yep!” he said, with some pride,
Both her tits snugly now in his grasp!
Not abreast of things
She unfastened her brassiere clasp;
He emitted an audible gasp,
And she winked to suggest
He might fondle her chest,
Which the poor fellow failed to grasp!
The gasp
He unfastened her brassiere clasp;
She emitted a small startled gasp.
But the next part was best,
When he licked at each breast,
With a tongue like a hot, fleshy rasp.
Sweater
Her breasts fought like two cats in her sweater,
No brassiere, either, to fetter
His naked delight:
It was thin, it was tight,
God! If only her sweater were wetter!