Please comment on my breast-teasing videos...

What's your opinion about my videos and pictures?


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a new one again...taken today...
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another one for my secret admirerers
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they felt so sexy this morning...
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:kiss:
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milking my own boobies

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:kiss:
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Learning about what you think about my videos, where I massage and arouse my own breasts and nips, is a huge turn-on for me...
comment either here or directly on Dailymotion.com

You find them via my signature...
lovely
 
thanks...no, I have none...and from the side they look just fuller...more feminine
Hello! My friend Dystracted recommended your page, and you have been very kind to leave nice notes about my postings. So, I am just saying hello, and to let you know I support your male boobs! You go! Sincerely, Belle
 
very kind of you, thanks...
not surprisingly it's mostly men feeling attracted to my breasts...pity...:eek:
Hello! My friend Dystracted recommended your page, and you have been very kind to leave nice notes about my postings. So, I am just saying hello, and to let you know I support your male boobs! You go! Sincerely, Belle
 
nipples and boobs

I adore male boobs and wish I had some as my nipples would even better stand out than
My big nipples are very sensitive and love attention all the time


sure, of course...
 
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WoW or Fuck... that vid is sooo hot WOW

I think this is soooo sexy mother seducing her daughters' friend in bed Ohhh
I love the sexy breastfeeding sessions between women lesbian or not and
love to see much more of that Yummmm
XXXXjosi


please do...they are sexy...:kiss:
 
had to caress ym breasts again...
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boobs fun in the sun

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massaging and creaming my breasts

hoping to make them grow...
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they were so craving today for gentle hands...

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watch my nips harden...

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It depends . . .

Please bear with me . . . There's a gesture in this story. It's at the core, the foundation of all that happened.

HOWEVER, once, when my wife was breastfeeding our first born, a little girl, I did watch an amazingly arousing fifteen or twenty minutes of breast-teasing drama. On a long overnight flight from Vancouver, Canada, to Lima, Perú, we sat in tourist class three abreast (the other side of the aisle was two abreast), my wife, an Italian of about 30 years of age, and I. The Italian, who'd introduced himself early on, and to whom we'd talked quite a while, sat on the aisle seat, my wife in the middle and I next to the window.

When we'd all gotten sleepy, at my wife's request I'd lowered the port window shutter against the flashing wing light. The soft aisle floor lights were the only illumination in the otherwise dark cabin. Although my wife had been discrete when she'd fed our baby, our equally respectful seatmate pretended nothing was unusual, but his interest was notable when he spoke, a tremulous waver in his voice as he pointedly kept his eyes on mine and then hers as we murmured our goodnights. Soon my wife was asleep, our baby’s eyes closed too, her little mouth a round O around even breaths, her face buried between the softness of the breast nearest me and her arm. Not sleepy yet, I turned on the overhead reading light, which threw a narrow cone of illumination on my paperback book, and a faint aura that dimly lit my wife from her chin down. Holding my head still, moving only my eyes, I glanced sideways onto her breasts. I was immediately aroused. Each nipple was visible beneath the cotton material of her button-up-the-front blouse, leaking milk having darkened the fabric.

Every few lines of my book, I’d glanced over. still without turning my head. Our seat mate, gone to sleep earlier, facing forward, turned toward us, curled his legs under him enough so that his knees lightly touched my wife’s thigh, and when he’s squirmed to settle comfortably, it looked to me that his nose and mouth may have come to rest on her shoulder. My arousal made reading further impossible.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw her nipples harden, rise against her cotton blouse, making little, damp tents as her milk continued to leak. All three of us sat still in our seats. I slowly came to be sure that the two of them were pretending sleep: she raised her shoulder and turned slightly toward him, as if finding a more comfortable position, and I saw the tip of his nose flatten against the swell she’d offered him—deliberately or not. I didn’t know for sure, but hoped. My arousal became painful. Carefully, so as not to distract them, I sucked my gut in, and reached into my pants to pull myself up.
Minutes passed. Her milk had continued to leak. The dark circles that had capped each nipple crept outward. I knew she too was aroused, feeling that attraction materializing between and in her and our Italian traveling companion. It happens without words and only the slightest visual connection, a recognition of another who fits. I knew she was aroused because her milk leaked only when she was too full, and stopped after feeding, or when she approached her climax.

She turned her back to me, cuddling our baby lower on her lap. I did not see our seat mate turn away or even move. I was sure his face was full on her breasts. Tremors of uncertainty ripple through my stomach. But I was rock hard and, if anything, became harder than before. Without thought or purpose, I turned toward my wife, lay my hand on the nape of her neck and slowly massaged he neck, then her shoulder. I began rubbing the dorsal muscles either side of her spine, starting at her neck and then descending. She didn’t move. With my free hand, the one below me, I opened my pants and pulled myself out, all the while rubbing deeper and lower on her back.

She glanced back over her shoulder, sending me a brief, sleepy smile. I kissed her neck, cuddled close, and wondered what was happening just inches away, on the other side of her body.

She told me about it the next evening. All through the day, after we landed in Lima, settled into the hotel and went out to each cebiche at a restaurant famous for the dish, and through cocktails and dancing in the evening, neither of us mentioned what had happened in the plane. In bed that night, she turned to me, a mischievous smile on her face, waiting for my questions.

She said she had felt his eyes on her through the evening, even before she’d pulled a heavily engorged breast free for our restless, demanding baby. All the while I was unaware, she’d felt an unexpected, powerful attraction between them, she said, and that attraction grew as he’d “gazed down” (SIC; her words, although in my memory he’d never looked directly below her eyes). Nevertheless, she wanted to make clear. the arrow of the look in his eyes went through hers and settled heavily in her breasts as at the same time she was adjusting them and the nipple in our baby's mouth popped out in full view inches from him. His gaze had not dropped, but she said she felt his full attention there, as if her were already taking her breast into his mouth. That gesture was, for her, a kind of turning point, filling her mind with him.

When she’d turned toward him, she’d felt a great relief in having “declared” herself to him, letting his chin, mouth and nose slide across her breast until her nipple leaked through the fabric onto his cheek. When she’d felt my hands on her back, and somehow knew that I had approved, her milk had come in a flood, thoroughly wetting her blouse, and so she’d lifted the breast from inside and her then spurting nipple directly into the young Italian’s mouth. She said he’d been “hungry”.

I knew when she’d dipped her head, bowing forward and, unmistakably taken him into her mouth. She pulled the blanket that had been behind her shoulders up over her head, hiding down there, barely moving. I’d seen his face as hers went down. He lay back on the seat, face to the ceiling of the cabin, eyes closed, and with both hands caressed the neck and shoulders where my hands had been. I massaged her lower back. I’m not sure if it was leading up to his climax -- afterward her head pausing to let his pent up milk fill her mouth -- or while he was pumping it into her. But, after bobbing up and down in a steady rhythm, I saw her head suddenly become still, saw him stiffen, butt rising from the seat, her higher beneath the blanket. Then he collapsed. She did something under the covers there, then, her head appearing again, settled our baby once more between her breasts, turned to me, snuggled against my shoulder, and then raised her face to kiss me.
 
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