Cheeky boy! She should give him a slap…
He’s unfastened her brassiere… Snap!
One hand’s under her dress…
On her cunt, more or less…
Fumbling round… Does he need a damn map?
Tag: brassiere
Body armour
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!
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!