Big Ones.

Big ones.

I've never worn
A beautiful lingerie before.
As my huge melons
Can't get enough
Into the designer ones.
They pop out if I use them.
Sometimes the soft flesh
Sometimes the big brown nipples
Sometimes the bags below my arms
Sometimes they bulge below the bra.
I wish I was slimmer Sometimes.
But when I think of smaller mounds
I feel You won't like me anymore.
As you are addicted to my globes.
Kneading them, sucking them.
Pinching them, twisting them.
Biting them, licking them.
Squeezing them, pressing them.
Even thrusting between them.
I know you love them.
More and more, all the time.
You crave for them hungrily.
Wanting to see them forever.
Hold them forever.
Like it belongs to you, not me.
The way your hands slide down
towards my huge balloons,
Whenever You hold your arms
around my shoulders.
The way you undress my lingerie
To see them desperately.
The way you suck them hard
and harsh as if it's your oxygen.
The way your fingers twist and turn
My brown buds, rough and quick.
The way you squeeze my soft mounds
Like they are your stress busters.
I know how you long for them all night.
How you get hard just thinking of them.
And caressing them as you want.
I know you are mad for them.
More than the heart below those mounds.
The one which makes the most,
Love to you. In real.
Than those gorgeous mounds of mine.
Do I fight with my own globes?
Which I'm proud of.
For your attention,
For your deep interests.
Which is highly towards my
Huge melons, my globes.
Than me who holds them.
●
Non- Existent.