Christmas- 2

‘IT was the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, except for my spouse;
The breast pumps were stored in the cupboard with care,
Her warm, honeyed milk ready to be shared;

The children were nestled at grandma’s in bed,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And she without a stitch, and I in the nude,
Had just settled down to nurse which did ensue,

When out of her mouth there arose such a sigh,
She purred, “Oh Husband, Darling Husband, please suckle me dry”,
I pulled her up upon me with grace,
With her engorged, sweet breasts swaying gently above my face.

Her breasts were white as the new-fallen snow,
But would soon give way to luster of a beautiful glow,
When, what to my eager lips should appear,
A single drop of milk, it was a heady, sugary smear,

With long sensual sucks, both arousing and lactic,
She knew in a moment it would be magic.
In rapid succession her nectar came,
I moaned in ecstasy, and whispered her name;

As I suckled her breasts and held her tight, my precious angel began to cry,
When my mouth met her nipple, there were tears in her eyes,
So I suckled and I suckled and her milk did flow,
Our love so deep and bonding that it would grow and grow.

Her breasts were finally emptied and I so sated,
she gently tucked herself next to me, both of us elated,
We were free from Life’s worries, in perfect repose,
And I thinking inside, “Her nipples are as red as a delicate rose”;

As she slept, I kissed her, loving her more;
She was so beautiful from her head down to her toes,
With a happy sigh, I fell into a dreamless sleep
With visions of my beloved’s breasts and I so heart-deep…

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