My gawd, they were huge. I never dreamed her tits were that big. I got up and got closer and looked, her nipples pointed to the ground. I lifted one a...d it felt like 5-10 pounds of tit. Her milky white skin, laced with tiny blue veins, her pink areolas the size of a 50 cent piece and hard nipples about the size of a pencil’s eraser only a bit skinnier. They were hard and erect in my hand, I was assuming that Aunt Marsha loved her glorious tits being handled, and fondled, and ogled by her young. Dash wouldn’t be around forever. Mornings IIUp at 6:30. After she acquitted herself, peed, washed her face, and tried to brush some sense into her thick, black bedhead, she boiled water for tea and immediately sat down at her desk to draw or write. No television, no radio, no phone or Internet. She didn’t want to read anything. She was scrupulous about avoiding the world’s disruptive noise before she managed get to pen to paper. Even tiny, useful bits, like the weather forecast, required some. More

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