Mum with kids, unenhanced, no spring chicken,
But breasts and thighs still finger-lickin’…
She sucked good as most,
And she loved a spit-roast…
Just the thought of it made her cunt slicken!
Tag: breasts
On a hiding to nothing
The poor man was so uptight and so meek,
Yet compelled, like a jerk, still, to sneak,
Snatching glimpses of breasts…
His pathetic requests…
“They’re so nice! Can I give them a tweak?”
Let down
She looks lovely… except that set frown…
Is she peeved? She looks somehow let down…
Splendid lactating breasts,
On display for his guests,
In her new, rather low-cut (wet?) gown.
Fill in the space
“Oh, my goodness!” she thought, with a frown,
As his hands brushed her breasts, moving down…
“Oooh! That feels superb!
God! Yes! Please (INSERT VERB)
My hot, wet, virgin, tight (INSERT NOUN)!
After dinner
“You’re a fine looking girl,” he says slyly.
“Umm…Thank you my lord,” she says shyly.
He squeezes her breasts,
And he turns to his guests…
“Not quite ripe enough yet,” he say dryly.
The cuckold
His wife’s favours, with which she was sparing,
He relished , when offered, past caring,
‘Twixt passion and gloom,
Never thinking with whom
Her soft breasts, her warm cunt, he was sharing.
Window dressing
Miniskirt, halter, stockings of mesh,
Maiden offering, smooth, shining flesh!
Breasts as firm as ripe fruit,
His to have and to root!
Perhaps virginal, tender and fresh!
Prom night
In the cold of the night, breasts tight-budded,
Eyes brimming, goose-pimpled, She shuddered.
Her first time and all!
Up against a brick wall,
Disappointing, and sort of cold-blooded.
God’s work
The Inquisitor scoffed, “She shall burn!
But repents not, as yet, I discern.
Let us flog those proud breasts!”
He exclaimed to his guests.
“Father Francis, I think it’s your turn.”
Bon vivant
Panting, dripping with sweat, her breasts heave.
God! Such stamina! Hard to believe!
She’s exhausted strong men;
Pausing, now and again,
For more bubbly. Such damn joie de vivre!