no bra club

no bra club

I meet you at a party.
Dark, warm, mysterious, music that you feel in the inner side of you.
I see you from afar.
You wear a crop top.
You know, one of those tops, just up close and personal to your breasts.
I see you don’t wear a bra.
Even more beautiful.
I see a bit of your breasts. Little by little. The light is correct. The darkness too.
I see your nipples. Hard. And not so little. They are there. Always. Perfect.
Horny, present, good.
I love it.
How they almost prick through your shirt.
How they make mine hard. And likewise horny.
I feel them. Of myself and I also want yours. To feel.
Closer. You. Come. Me too.
My tongue touches yours.
Playful. Soft. Needy. Like women tongues. The best.
I lick your lips and you feel mine.
My hand under your shirt.
Your nipples. I touch them. I squeeze a bit. How do you find that?
I see it and I feel it.
Fuck, you make me so fucking horny.
Lead me, show me, take me. Wherever. All. The. Way. Is what I prefer.
I want your shirt up.
I want to see your breasts.
I want to feel them even more. And especially taste the taste of them.
Let me be with you. Join your fantastic no bra club. Paradise city. All over.
I want to dance with our breasts against each other. Exciting, exhilarating, excruciating, sexy.
Let’s go crazy.
Let loose.
And mine too. Now.


All artwork by Puck Rietveld

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