"Accident on Aisle Seven"

It was purely accidental when she stumbled and fell upon me,
until I saw how my lap was joyfully trapped under
the thirty gallons of her massive bosom,
two titanic chocolate mountains slowly swimming back and forth
like ocean waves in heat, causing my tower to swiftly rise.
We both lay there laughing, complete strangers
on a deserted aisle seven, bras hanging overhead.
Her laughter swiftly became her licking her thick chocolate lips
when she felt my stiff pillar in my pants,
buried underneath her thirty undulating gallons of udder-breast
yearning to burst from her blouse and engulf my virility.
I knew she wanted me
between her udders of ecstasy,
rubbing her nipples like erect clits on her tits as she
slowly reached down with her hands and secretly undid
three blouse buttons and my fly, smiling with mischief and
delicious elation at the sensation of my thick stick
taking up residence deep inside her warm, undulating breast-valley.
And we just lay there on aisle seven, complete strangers,
with no one suspecting anything suspicious,
and everyone merely assuming that this big Black mamma
needed some time to catch her breath.  So they
left us alone.  And we just smiled into each other's eyes
as her thirty orgasmic gallons of undulating udder-bosom and deep cleavage
insatiably drank one quiet ejaculation after another after another,
without losing a single drop.  When we finally stopped,
and I helped her to her feet, everyone was still clueless
as to the freaky ecstasy that had transpired spontaneously
on aisle seven, beneath that bra display.
But later on that day, we were at it again,
her thirty-gallon breasts and my strong tower now the best of friends
on the floor of her den, then my dining-room table,
my meaty pillar the main course for her devouring breast-valley
all day and night.  That accident on aisle seven
was oh-so-right!

Copyright (c) 2004, Kenneth Scott, All Rights Reserved