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Sunday, 11 January 2015

Sunday Snog: Champagne and Tits

My Goodness! What on earth happened to last week? I intended to dish out wisdom *snort* and eloquence with fabulous informative blogs over the past seven days but it appears that, well, I haven't. Good god, it's not going to be another whiplash year that just goes is it?



So here I am with a Sunday Snog. This is from a story which I'm working on and may or may not be ready in time for a TOP SECRET PROJECT!! If you like it and want to find out when things like this happen, just follow me by email - see box to the right - I'm not organised enough to do a newsletter I'm afraid. :D

So here it is, from Champagne and Tits:

Bosoms. Breasts. Tits. Funbags. Nipples.

Whatever. I am completely indifferent to them. They do nothing for me. I like looking at them on other women but mine are of no consequence to me. Well that’s not true – Jim adores mine. He says they are perfectly made to fit in his cupped palm. He sometimes comes up to me from behind and slides his hands up to hold them, knead them, letting the nipples slide between his fingers as he does. Teasing, pressing, coaxing.

Nothing.

They just aren’t sensitive at all. I know it saddens Jim but they really aren't. I’ve heard of women who can climax from nipple stimulation alone. My breasts are so insensitive that I can’t even muster envy for that kind of experience – I wouldn’t know how to even imagine what that would be like.

Jim has made it his mission to give me a sexual response through my breasts – I really wish he wouldn’t. It isn’t unpleasant having attention lavished on my bosom but there are far more exciting and stimulating parts that could be attended to. Take the crook of my arm… oh my god… nibble on the inside of my elbow and I will do anything you want… anything. There is a path with a very distinct trail leading from there to my clitoris. All the nerve endings are in perfect alignment on that particular journey, oh yes.
Or my shoulders, or the vulnerable fleshy bit of my arm just where is reaches my underarm – I’m squirming and wriggling just to think of it.

But tonight, I know it; Jim has something planned for me. He’s been looking at my tits all day and there’s champagne in the fridge. He’s even chilled the flutes in the freezer...


So there you have it! I know there isn't technically a kiss in there but hopefully you'll be curious enough to want to read the rest when it's finished!

Remember to hop on over to read the other snogs this Sunday x x x




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