The remarkable mammary gland,
The exposure of which was once banned,
Can be used as an udder
Or make grown men shudder
By just lying there in their hand.
Tag: breasts
Lips were made to love and kiss
She has lips made for pouting and sighs
And long, sensuous, elegant thighs,
Breasts that sway when she walks,
Rise and fall when she talks,
And an arse to bring tears to men’s eyes!
An earful
The praties
Irish lassies have wonderful chests:
They have nice mashed-potato-soft breasts,
And a young Irish lad
Can be driven quite mad
By their jiggling under their vests!
Finger lickin”
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!
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.