He calls them my berries. And he loves berries.
I don’t know, though. I’d say they’re more like conduits. One touch and sparks of electricity fly straight to my pussy.
Maybe they’re instruments…He strummed them like guitar strings one night and I came over and over, writhing and crying.
Berries or musical instruments, either way, he knows exactly what to do with them.
Mmmmm, Boobday. Check out Hy’s page for more boobs!!