It’s that time of day. Yes. That time. The strange late afternoon lusty time. The time when my breasts develop a mind of their own and start to think about being nuzzled, suckled, caressed, nibbled and licked. But not just licked. They want a warm masculine mouth to tease them into sharp points and then suck the nipples—hard—before rapidly flicking a talented tongue across their tips. They want strong hands cupping their creamy flesh, enjoying their weight. They want hungry eyes raking across them, committing the vision to memory. They seem to want quite a lot, my breasts… especially at this time of day.