Across the tapestry of time, whispered on the windswept moors and echoing in the halls of ancient lore, a legend rings forth, beckoning brave hearts and noble souls. It speaks of a cup, or are they two, imbued with divine power, chalices that grants sustenance to the weary and solace to the sorrowful – a woman's breast.
For untold ages, knights both valiant and craven have embarked on perilous quests, drawn by their celestial luminescence. Through sun-scorched deserts and frost-choked mountains they've trekked, braving wyverns' fire and krakens' wrath, all for a glimpse, a touch or a kiss.
But the search continues, since those magic breasts deserving of worship are often cloaked in mystery, their whereabouts a fickle phantom that dances just beyond grasp. They are hidden under your shirt perhaps, with walls as thick as those of ancient Camelot, maybe guarded by the spectral knights of the Round Table ...
So, if you are in possession of such chalices, deserving of play and worship and reverence, maybe, and only maybe, let me unwrap such divine bounty, for in the spirit of tactile play we may both find solace ...
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- 8 months ago
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- reddit.com/r/BreastPlayP...