Sexy Poem: "Ode to a New Car Shoulder Belt"  (f, breasts, preg, lact)

by Jackie (10/10/95 an338903@anon.penet.fi)

Oh, to be a new car shoulder belt between young mountains so very full,
Sensuously rubbing against those firm bulging mounds with every single pull.
Watching virgin red nipples harden, even when encased so very well,
As I roughly grind against, making them vastly pucker, shrivel, and swell.

Oh, I form and define those huge twin cones thru that valley I tightly press,
Then winding my way up her smooth velvet neck, giving that just a light caress.
For complete separation, the touted "Wonder Bra" has no advantage on me,
Just take a long peek in my car's driver's window and I'm sure you will agree.

Oh, how I remember when she was exuberantly young without so much a care,
Rushing to work on so many days, forgetting to slip on lacy pink underwear.
The heat from those full mounds closeness would make all my fibers just tingle,
Wishing they could push right through, for just a quick silent little mingle.

Oh, those two globes with their hard bullet nipples were so boynant and firm,
Any straight guy within ten miles would begin to drool, shift, and squirm.
I loved to feel their graceful jiggle while driving over each crack, rut, and
bump,
If Ford had given me even a very small clitty, you would have surely seen it
jump.

Oh, I pined for each hot summer day as sheer mini-tops were always worn,
From bikinis to halters, to thin silk blouses with many top buttons torn.
Some days I could feel her smooth pulsing hot flesh tight up against my strap,
I wanted those sensations to last forever and prayed for an infinite time gap.

Oh, marriage came along and all her flaunting clothing became much more modest,
Warm wonderful feelings became much fewer even when I pressed against my
hardest.
With maturity, sagging developed, though each round boob would bounce even more,
She now kept them tightly encased using bones, preventing muscles from getting
sore.

Oh, those harsh years passed so slowly while I silently wailed and I wept,
But soon a baby grew in her tummy, where her husband's long thick stick had
crept.
My belt could feel her flat belly blossom, hiding new life so deep inside,
Soon her comfortable jeans, even unsnapped, were too tight, no longer dignified.

Oh, I was joyful once again, as her previously-full breasts became ever more
bloated,
And I was so tightly pressed by an enlarging belly in which her new baby was
being toted.
Her loose conservative blouses no longer fit, showing huge inviting gaps ‘cross
her chest,
Allowing again the feel of milky-white flesh overflowing its cups, looking so
compressed.

Oh, their areola turned so much darker, long erect nipples even more pronounced,
Their shape ballooned much fuller, constantly being  jiggled, swayed, or
bounced.
For all nine months, both breasts kept blossoming on that pretty mother-to-be,
Flopping loose, they covered her enormous upper belly, ready to feed
twenty-three.

Oh, those last days she drove with legs spread wide as her giant belly hung so
low,
I was concerned she'd have an accident, pressing the brake when she wanted to
go.
Her indented belly-button now popped far out, each round wrinkle I could
distinctly feel,
This poor old belt was stretched so tight, I even felt  kicks from her babe's
tiny heel.

Oh, nine glorious months zipped right by and the birth seemed to come too soon,
But her thoughtful decision to breast-feed, brought me an even greater boon.
I watched those thick rubbery nipples poke through both her nursing bra and
blouse,
Leaving visible round puddles on both sides, when she drove roughly upto her
house.

Oh, now even her over-sized nursing bra stretched so, she'd leave the flaps
undone,
Top five or six buttons on her blouse wide open, letting me peek, feel, and have
some fun.
My pressure would squeeze the left udder real hard as my car bumped down the
street,
Twice warm sweet milk squirted out thru her sheer blouse, and dripped upon the
seat.

Oh, once or twice my fibers got so soaked with milk, I remember I fluttered with
joy,
But got even happier still, that day she sat nearby just breast-feeding her
young boy.
Sadly, she had taken me off, but I was still close with such a superb sideways
view,
As that piggy greedily suckled on each fat nipple, getting every last drop of
warm dew.

Oh, each breast was sooo engorged, their blue veins just popped right out,
That view was ever so wonderous, if I had a mouth you'd have heard me shout.
Her gluttonous boy must have suckled, fifteen or twenty minutes on each bulging
orb,
Surprised that with such a small body, so much warm sweet milk it could absorb.

Oh, she left them both uncovered, bare creamy flesh as she fed that boy his
fill,
My car provided absolute security and privacy from prying eyes upon that hill.
Before his vigorous suckling finished, I felt her violently shutter once or
twice,
Again she gasped, then tightly squeezed her legs together, that feeling was so
nice.

Oh, that sweet boy fell asleep real fast and she quickly put him down for a long
nap,
But left both empty juggs uncovered, as her right hand energetically massaged
her lap.
I still remember very vividly, those fat reddish-brown rubbery nipples
glistening so,
Before she packed those empty juggs back up and way too soon got my car to go.

Oh, but so quickly it all ended, as her little baby boy grew much too old,
Again, I felt so rejected and depressed, like I had been put out into the cold.
Still I went on with my work, protecting those less firm mounds I loved so dear,
Never feeling their radient warmeth, even though they were always so near.

Oh, how I so longed and yearned for her younger care-free bra-less days,
When nothing would prod or poke me, not pins, clasps, or stiff sharp stays.
Warm creamy flesh was then so close, sometimes even burning my taut strap,
As it wriggled between those round firm mounds in that deep-valley gap.

Oh, my job is still done everyday with the utmost of care,
Though with old age coming on, she'll never again show them bare.
Our drives are so much fewer with heavier clothes being worn,
So I can never feel those objects about which I now will mourn.

Oh, I finally am content that I was able to see all that I've seen,
If only I had eyes, they would sparkle with a warm satisfied sheen.
I know that one day real soon, I'll just hang and never again move,
Maybe again, a young girl will own me and I'll get back into *her* groove.