Breasts, the hanging mass of beauty on women. Read the caption ♥️ Breasts, the hanging mass of beauty on women. You will see them for their shape, their size. You will be fascinated with them. You will feel attracted towards her, for her shape. You will call it love, at least you will tell her that. But breasts don't age well if your love was just for their shape and size. They develop wrinkles. They sag. They pale. They gather stretch marks. They lose their glory. They become what you never wanted them to be. They become her, yes, her with all her imperfections, her scars, her fading beauty. And that's how her breasts, once a measure of her beauty become a measure of your love. Will you still unhook her bra with the same passion? Will you still fondle her breast as you kiss her wrinkled, old lips?
