I am going for my first ever boob-squishing tomorrow. I had always nurtured the naive belief that I would escape this particular middle-aged-woman torture because they would not be able to fit The Girls into their squishing machine, but my friend F, whose boobs are several cup sizes larger than Hephzibah* and Ghislaine* got squished without
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I'm sure your tits do have names - secret names that they keep only to themselves, and, why yes, that is the nice men in their nice white coats coming to see me again...
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