...Look, folks, I am just going to apologize for this one in advance. Wonder Woman death glare included.
Puffies, perkies, pointed, rounded,
areolae dark as coal,
or pink, or brown, of varied sizes,
sometimes contrast to the whole,
the dimes, the silver dollars, pancakes,
fading out or well-defined.
Different skin tones, different textures,
match the ways that I'm inclined.
Endless human variation, site to site, no sight unseen:
so many breasts, so many different,
MILFs to barely legal teens.
The net is rich. Yet men still wonder,
What's concealed beneath her shirt?
What sort of bra? And what lies under?
This endless speculation hurts,
although it isn't, quite, to covet,
but contemplate in idle dreams.
And if someday we see -- we love it,
whether right or wrong, it seems.
Awash in riches, given freely --
the message boards, pay sites' free tours --
there's no way to say this genteely:
I still want more. Could I see yours?