Boob smoob

Jasmyne’s huge natural breasts stopped me cold. They hung heavy, barely held by a strip of fabric. I had to touch them. The top came away and I took one in each hand, filling my palms completely, testing their weight, rolling the flesh until the nipples stood tight. I spent hours like that—kneading, lifting, pressing the soft swell together, feeling every shiver travel through the living weight. Each squeeze dragged a low sound from her throat. I didn’t stop until my fingers ached.