You've captured my ear with lascivious flattery,
Comparing my nipples to those on a battery.
The moments, you say, when I wow you the most
Are the times when they're hard as a battery post.

My nipples grow hopelessly rigid, you say,
When arousal takes over and gives me away.
My boobs 'make a point' every time that they can
And they're bound to be noticed quite soon by a man.

I often don't know that it's even occurred,
But my nipples are gifted at spreading the word.
If I was aware, but I wanted to hide it,
My blouse would still tattle the secrets inside it.

I can't be discreet when my nipples won't let me.
Their message is always so clear: 'Come and get me!'
You're proudly displaying your membership card
In the Order of Men Who Watch Nipples Get Hard.

And although the name of your brotherhood's clever,
I notice your club's hardly private, however.
The guys who watch nipples congeal like granite
Include every fellow alive on the planet.

You make such an effort of looking at my two
That most days you know I'm aroused before I do.
You'll make me aware when you notice, you vow.
In fact, you inform me, they're triggered right now.

They're just like a battery, hardened like steel.
You don't have to touch them to know how they feel.
But just for good measure, you touch anyway.
In other words, Dear, it's a typical day.

Your hands are so eager at times to be feeling them,
I'm often felt up even when I'm concealing them.
Usually, though, it won't be very long
'Til whatever I'm wearing waist-up will be gone.

I'm rather intrigued, as you're able to tell,
With your statement that I'm like an energy cell.
I note since my nipples are swollen this large,
There might be a chance they could give you a charge.

You flatly confirm as you're working to free them
That you get a charge every time that you see them.
You may get a shock when you're touching these two.
I say to be careful this time if you do.

My warning is not a sufficient deterrent
As you check my boobs for electrical current.
That's when you're treated to one of those jolts
You can only attribute to 10,000 volts.

We're both caught off guard by the length of the sparks
As they're bridging the gap to your fingers in arcs.
zzzzzzz is the sound as the crackle and buzz
Sounds a lot like an ill-fated transformer does.

Your hands yank away as you're zapped like the devil,
'Cause you took a shock at a very high level.
Although the 10,000 volts nearly kills you,
It's easy to see that it utterly thrills you.

“Too bad,” you tell me, “That can't be repeated,”
As you are assuming the charge is depleted.
You clearly believe that I've run out of 'juice,'
That you've felt all the shock that my boobs can produce.

“Touch them again, Dear,” I sweetly compel you.
“There may be some power remaining,” I tell you.
You fear with good reason it might do you in
If you're hit with a shock from my nipples again.

You realize your hands at this point are still shaking,
So that is a chance you're not gonna be taking.
After this build-up, it's not too bizarre
When you say you could use me to “jump off the car.”

Rather than calling a tow when it's dead,
We could simply connect to my nipples instead.
And although it's true that we'd likely be able,
I know I don't want to be hooked to that cable!

If the car's ailing, I'll beg to be pardoned,
Despite that my nipples are desperately hardened.
Although my tips are the texture of steel,
I don't think I'd go for the way that would feel.

I have to concede that your make-believe's nice,
But jumping the car off?  You'd better think twice!
Those cables on me, Dear?  I'd certainly dread it,
Although I suspect that's the reason you said it.

Our banter is brimming with pure sensuality,
A world apart from becoming reality.
Although my tips are as hard as can be,
Arousal, in fact, is still rising in me.

It's certainly true, though it doesn't yet show.
I'm sure I'm more moist than a minute ago.
We say what comes into our minds when we're flirty,
And everything's kosher, more so if it's dirty!

“Sit here a sec,” you sincerely implore me.
You go to the desk 'cause you have something for me.
“Stay put,” you tell me, “and don't move an inch,
'Cause I'm gonna draw on your bust line, you wench!”

Back on short order, you're holding a pen.
You're grasping a breast and you promptly begin.
Sharing your motive with me as you start,
My “C-cells,” you claim, should be looking the part.
Whatever expression you're seeing on me tells
That I am amused that you're calling them C-cells.
And although my cup size falls short of a C,
It's still a great name for these features on me.
My boobs should have icons like batteries sport,
So you draw some lines of a relevant sort.
Forging ahead with no token of shyness,
You dress up my boobs with a 'plus' (+) and a 'minus' (-).

You tell me the 'minus' is just a formality,
An icon you add for the sake of reality.
My bust line's a winner, you comment, and thus,
It it were your choosing, they'd both be a 'plus.'

Since you're simply one of those red-blooded creatures,
You're naturally drawn to my feminine features.
There's nothing compared to my bust to surpass it.
Both of my boobs are a sensuous asset.

These icons you've added are avant-garde flattery,
And makes my boobs look like the poles on a battery.
The likeness, I notice, is more than a little...
A round copper ring with a post in the middle.

I see what you mean as you draw some connections
'Tween Duracell's goods and my girlish erections.
You claim that whenever my two posts are showing,
The bunny in you keeps on going and going.

“Your C-cells,” you tell me, “consistently please.
The copper top, Baby, has nothing on these.”
My boobs have become quite the energy plant.
I'd turn them off, Dear, but it seems that I can't.

At night time I fear that I'll keep you awake
With the bothersome noise that they constantly make.
I don't have a doubt you'll be wanting to stop
All the endless refrain of the snap, crackle, pop.

The way that my nipples will flicker and spark
Will be so distracting at night when it's dark.
You say with the wattage my puppies produce
That you'll harness this power and put it to use.

What clever ideas are you holding in store
As you're pulling a vibrator out of the drawer?
I see in your face that you're wowed with it all
As you're choosing a model that plugs in the wall.

You're sliding it into the normal locale
As it's swallowed in whole by my moistened canal.
Quite quickly, however, my focus is drawn
To the interesting fact that it isn't turned on.

You cut off the plug that you need for A-C.
You're stripping the leads and attach them to me!
The wires are surely an interesting sight.
There's one to my left boob and one on my right.

The vibrator gets all the power it needs
As it's sapping it off from my boobs through the leads.
Now, it won't have to be plugged in the wall
'Cause my nipples are able to power it all.
The vibrator, meantime, excels at its job
And the crux of my hips is beginning to throb.
My pussy's aroused by the stirring within it,
And you see me cumming in less than a minute!

Lustfully yours,
Tori Blake
www.lustfultori-blake.com