The Cleavage

It's magnificent. No other word for it. This cleavage is magnificent. They stand there like two trembling blowfish surrounded by an ocean of sharks. I doubt the parting of the red sea attracted this many onlookers. It's Saturday night, I'm working a bat mitzvah, it's not particularly enjoyable and I walk over to a couple standing at the bar... after that it's all a bit hazy. You see when this woman turned around I was blinded by a cleft of such overwhelming magnitude, such density and proportion that I struggle to recall much else; all other details have been pushed into remission by the double-double D before me. As is my job, I attempted to show her a few card tricks, but it was a nightmare, I could not begin to concentrate; every time I did something impressive she jumped so much she barely contained herself. I had nowhere to look and to make matters worse she was about four feet tall so each time my biology got the better of me, my eye level dropped a good 12 inches. Not very subtle. Her husband stood by her side, fixing me with such a look of tested jealousy that I could feel nothing but pity. That still didn't stop me looking though. I couldn't help it! I had to look! My eyes were pulled towards these transcendant orbs by their sheer gravity. It was a mechanical marvel how much flesh was bulging over the top, handful upon handful bursting over this woman's dress, and yet somehow the nipples were managing to stay concealed, two little teats clinging on for dear life. In the end I could take no more; the risk of spillage was just too great, and I think if I'd have been faced with a full view of these silicon-free sensations I would never have recovered. So denying myself any further glimpses I limped away.