‘Twas a warm spring evening. Sandra sat suspect, alone in the local café amidst the gaudy paintings track lights and under-watered ferns. She liked the lattés here and it was just down the street from her apartment.
Sandra’s cooch itched through the cotton crotch of her shiny sheer comfort waistband flat seamed suntan 94% nylon 6% cotton pantyhose. Sandra ignored the slight irritation and took another sip of her latté, adjusted her mini skirt slightly and moved her shoulders in such a way as to adjust her big nipple brassiere.
“I have huge nipples.” thought Sandra. “This is the only bra I can wear that I like that covers my nipples well.” Sandra knew she looked good in her pink gingham patterned form fitting big nipple brassiere. The form fitting contoured lightly lined stretch foam cups and scalloped trim were as comfortable as sexy could be. The chill in café had hardened Sandra’s nipples so they poked against the nylon/elastane fabric of her pink gingham patterned form fitting big nipple brassiere and were visible through her adorable spring-inspired print lace-trimmed tank top.
It was then that Sandra noticed him. He was a young hipster with dark swarthy euro looks and sideburns. Actually, since Sandra could was observing the young man’s profile from his left side, she could only see one sideburn. Sandra assumed she had a matching sideburn on the right side of his head. She assumed that he had a right eye too.
Suddenly, the young man picked up his coffee cup, looked up right at Sandra, took a sip of his coffee and smiled. Sandra was jolted to attention and smiled back. She could see he had two sideburns and was handsome. The young hipster got up with his coffee, his smile, his dark swarthy euro looks and his sideburns and made his way to Sandra’s table.
“Hi, my name is …blashmkmaaahhhhfff” said the handsome hipster as a stream of reddish brown vomit spewed out of his mouth on to the floor. “May I join you?” he asked, as if nothing odd had happened.
“You just threw up and ralphed or vomited or puked.” Said Sandra, “Are you feeling ok?”
“Yes” said the handsome hipster “That’s my name. My friends call me …blahpppp.” The handsome hipster made a dry heave sound. “It’s easier on the esophagus”
“So your name is the actual act of vomiting but your friends call you blahpppp…” Sandra made a dry heave noise.
“Yes” said the handsome hipster “I couldn’t help but notice your perky upturned nipples poking through your adorable spring-inspired print lace-trimmed tank top. It made me want to befriend you in such a way as you might compromise yourself in a way which would enable me to have access to your bared breasts and enhance my already aroused state in such a way as to make my incredibly rock hard penis even harder so I could at that time insert it into your hot wet quivering quim and pump a bit until I couldn’t help but shoot a huge wad of spermy jizz ejaculate into your bearded clam.”
“Please, sit down” said Sandra “My name is Sandra. “Nice to meet you. I have huge nipples. There’s only one kind of regular bra I can wear that I like that covers my nipples well. It’s not like my tits are really big, I’m just average, but my nipples are huge.” Sandra went on, gently shrugging her shoulders, pushing her breasts together. “Like it’s asking too much for a bra to cover my nipples…”
The handsome hipster sat down at Sandra’s table. When he looked at Sandra, it was obvious to the handsome hipster that the good Lord had blessed her with a decent rack which could draw the attention of most males of the specie. The handsome hipster wanted to procreate with Sandra and could imagine getting Sandra’s big nippled breasts out of her big nipple brassiere. He would have an enhanced feeling of arousal and would want to put the big nipples into his mouth and suck upon them as he rubbed his rock hard penal boner into her mons deferens region. In this way, perhaps Sandra’s stench trench would become sufficiently lubricated so as to allow the handsome hipster’s penal boner entry into Sandra’s hot wet coozy cum dumpster where he would be able to shoot a load of hot sticky baby batter into her bearded clammy gash perhaps impregnating Sandra. If that were the case, that baby would receive ample nourishment from those aforementioned big nipples.
Sandra was intrigued by handsome hipster whose name was the actual act of vomiting. She wondered what it would be like sucking his tube steak. She knew it wouldn’t be like driving to Cleveland. She knew it wouldn’t be like playing the trombone in a top hat. She knew it wouldn’t be like eating a cheese omelet. She knew it wouldn’t be like listening to “The March of the Wooden Soldiers”. She knew it wouldn’t be like playing “Parcheesi”
Parcheesi is the Royal game of India. It was played in India around 500 BC. It was played on the palace grounds and used slave girls as the red, yellow blue and green pawns. You need 2 dice. Five has a special value.
Sandra knew that sucking the handsome hipster’s loin puppet wouldn’t be like having seven dollars and thirty eight cents in her pocket. She knew it wouldn’t be like opening a tin of sardines. She knew it wouldn’t be like bowling with a 12 pound red pearl rough buffed Brunswick Total Inferno bowling ball. She knew it wouldn’t be like shopping for a fondue set.
Sandra had sucked shlong before, so she had an idea of what it would be like to slurp down the handsome hipster’s boner. Sandra knew that sucking the handsome hipster’s groin sausage wasn’t like making meatballs by combining 1 pound of ground beef, 1/2 pound of ground lean pork,1/2 pound of ground veal,1 cup of Italian bread crumbs, 2 eggs, 4 cloves of chopped garlic, 2 teaspoons of oregano, 1 teaspoons of basil,1/2 teaspoons of rosemary, and 1/2 cup of chopped fresh parsley, mixing all the ingredients well and forming medium sized meatballs then frying them in small amounts of fat until they are brown. She knew it wasn’t like a walk in a summer rain at dusk through the wood of bramble and cottonwood filled with the tweet of the robin and the emphatic "Whip-poor-will" of the whippoorwill.
Sandra was awakened from her reverie by the handsome hipster as he sat down at her table and said…
“I hope I didn’t spew chunks on your skirt or your shiny slinky sheer suntan flimsy diaphanous gossamer pantyhose.” said the handsome stranger. He was eating from a pint of cottage cheese he had pulled from his large overcoat. “Call me a romantic, but I think the way your legs look in those slinky sheer shiny suntan pantyhose made me want to talk to you; Engage you in trivial banter with the hope that I would befriend you in such a way as to gain your confidence, your curiosity, and your trust in the hope that you might compromise yourself in a way which would enable me to have access to your bared breasts and see those huge nipples of which you speak. I’m sure that the sight of your large nipples would enhance my already aroused state in such a way as to make my incredibly rock hard penis even harder so I could at that time fondle and suck your average sized huge nipple fun sacks as I touch your upper thighs and tease you in the hopes that I would sexually arouse you enough so that you will allow insert my rigid rod into your hot wet quivering quim and pump a bit until I couldn’t help but shoot a huge wad of spermy jizz ejaculate into your bearded clam. Hopefully, I won’t impregnate you, but if I do, I’m sure that the infant will obtain ample nourishment from your big nipple fun bags.”
“Oh my gosh golly goodness!” Said Sandra, “Your so passionate and romantic. Call ME a romantic, but I was just wondering what it would be like to suck on your man sausage. Don’t get me wrong,” said Sandra smiling seductively, “I’ve sucked enough crotch to know
it wouldn’t be like driving to Cleveland, or playing the trombone in a top hat. It wouldn’t be like eating a cheese omelet or listening to “The March of the Wooden Soldiers”. It wouldn’t be like playing “Parcheesi”
Did you know that Parcheesi is the Royal game of India?” Sandra asked the handsome hipster.
“Yes,” replied the handsome hipster, “It was played in India around 500 BC. It was played on the palace grounds and used slave girls as the red, yellow blue and green pawns. You need 2 dice. Five has a special value.”
“Yes!” Replied and excited Sandra, “And I know sucking your loin puppet wouldn’t be like having seven dollars and thirty eight cents in my pocket or opening a tin of sardines. Or bowling with a 12 pound red pearl rough buffed Brunswick Total Inferno bowling ball. It wouldn’t be like shopping for a fondue set, or making meatballs by combining 1 pound of ground beef, 1/2 pound of ground lean pork,1/2 pound of ground veal,1 cup of Italian bread crumbs, 2 eggs, 4 cloves of chopped garlic, 2 teaspoons of oregano, 1 teaspoons of basil,1/2 teaspoons of rosemary, and 1/2 cup of chopped fresh parsley, mixing all the ingredients well and forming medium sized meatballs then frying them in small amounts of fat until they are brown It wouldn’t be like a walk in a summer rain at dusk through the wood of bramble and cottonwood filled with the tweet of the robin and the emphatic "Whip-poor-will" of the whippoorwill.”
Sandra paused and looked at the handsome hipster. They left and went to the handsome hipster’s apartment. At this point, the handsome hipster’s trivial banter had succeeded in gaining Sandra’s confidence, her curiosity, her trust so that Sandra compromised herself in a way which enabled the handsome hipster have access to her bared huge nippled breasts. The sight of Sandra’s large nipples enhanced the handsome hipster’s already aroused state in such a way as to make his incredibly rock hard penis even harder. At that time, the handsome hipster fondled and sucked Sandra’s average sized huge nipple fun sacks as he touched her upper thighs and teased her. you in. Sandra became sexually aroused enough so that she was willing to allow the handsome hipster to insert his rigid rod into her hot wet quivering quim. The handsome hipster decided to ram his sperm nozzle up Sandra’s chocolate starfish instead and pump her rump for a bit until he couldn’t help but shoot a huge wad of spermy jizz ejaculate in Sandra’s cornhole. In that way, the handsome hipster could be sure that he wouldn’t impregnate Sandra, even though he knew an infant born of this encounter would obtain ample nourishment from Sandra’s big nipple fun bags. He didn’t want the responsibility that bringing a child into the world would bring, so he fucked Sandra up her poop chute while she wore her big nipple brassiere.
fin
