Titty Talk Pt. 3: Penetralia

I discovered a shrine within my nipples.

Twisted, buried in pre-intimacy sheets

These breasts incline.

Peak. Dip.

Droplets scatter underneath,

Few tongues have swallowed the taste of salt from crystals there.

Laced between mountains, glistening

Rivers pool desire.

Cupping it raw, golden trails of brown flecks wind into mounds of flesh.

Like rocks jutting to waterfalls

Nipples harden, the goddess caped in your areolas swims and cascades

Into the folds of the cater between your thighs.

There are few natural wonders in this world.

I’ve low-fived myself into one of them.