The sweet swell of mammary mounds
cause my lips to pose in pucker position,
predetermined that I shall forever seek this softness.
The heaviness in my hands turns
each breath light and shallow.
Heart pounding beneath my own bosom.
Like braille, I read the bumps encircling the hardening areolas
before me.
They tell a tale of a river that runs through her.
At first sight I love to have the lady standing,
So that I may feast until filled,
Upon the beauty of the hang and shadow.
Stalking around her to the side so as to see the profile view
of their portrusion from her frame.
The vision of nipples pointing up, down or dead ahead.
Unable to fight the urge any longer, my lips brush just the titanium tips,Tongue following to taste her.
I'll watch her all the while so she can see her beauty in my eyes
as I suckle what she was gracious enough to offer.
Caressing my own as I carefully consume her,
she need not ever touch me.
Savoring her supple flesh,I'll gladly have her breasts for breakfast daily.
The her and she, this lady being all of woman kind,
sans the members of my family tree.
Love them, those ladies. Glorious goddess of a woman she is.Them, those girls, vixens, virgins or nuns.Braless and beautiful.My mouth waters for them, for her.