Noticeable Veins On Breasts Novels & Stories

I was lying on my back dressed in only a cream-colored half-cup bra, which exposed more than covered. The top of my breast was exposed, and my dark nipples were almost visible. I wore a matching shade of lace pants. My face was flushed and my lips were swollen. And I was panting from the little exercise. He sniffed the air and inhaled, closing his eyes. No doubt inhaling the heady musk that has permeated the air.

All I could see was her. She was a wreck. Blood crusted under her nose. A long gash torn down her side where the beast’s claws had caught her. Her face was gray and sunken, her lips cracked. And her arm… I pulled back her torn sleeve and my heart stopped. The black veins. I’d heard about them. I’d seen them on the dying at the gates. But I’d never seen them on her, and the sight of them tore something open in me. They’d spread far past her wrist, past her elbow, climbing up over her shoulder, dark and thick and pulsing faintly under her skin like something alive.

If you don't have to resort to kickboxing techniques, then the trousers should have held out until the end of the day. As for the black silk blouse, I wasn't so sure. Despite the fact that I still managed to express a lot of milk and even squeeze into a lacy bra, my chest stuck out like two melons, ready to burst at any moment. Even the veins showed through, running in blue patterns from tan to paler skin. Nightmare!

Kara's breasts were works of art. The soft, pale flesh was naturally enhanced by her red-hair. Her areolas were a little larger than quarters and they seemed to puff out slightly. The curve of the breasts seemed to defy gravity and curve upwards, even more so when she arched her back or leaned backwards.

He growled before lifting her shirt over her head and tossing it away. Her breasts were small but well-formed, and her nipples were hard little peaks through the sheer lace of her bra. He pushed her bra straps down her arms, and finally, her breasts were free and bare. He drank in the gorgeous sight: her nipples were puffy, a dark rose color, and he could see blue veins below her creamy skin. Thea ran her fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp. “Anthony…” she whispered.

༺RAYNE༻ Days later... I just finished showering and I slip on the first nightie I can get my hands on, a short, soft, silky lavender dress. It's only after I've worn it, I realize how thin and transparent it is. My nipples are practically poking right through, very visible and my areolas are also noticeable too, dark rosy circles with a mild puffiness.

Her hands instinctively flew to her breasts. He walked towards her, rolling his sleeves even higher. His forearms flexed the multiples veins that complimented his tattoos, “Get in,”

He moved his hand towards my vulva, growling as he noticed how wet I was from all the orgasm. As he moved his hands down my shoulders, he felt where the small muscles of her upper chest changed to the softer beginnings of my breast. His fingers brushed over the slight dip where the valley between them started. I began to breathe slightly faster, in anticipation of what was to come. Vincent stared at my breasts, and I looked down to observe them. My breasts were big and round, but they were firm. My nipples on top of my mound were dark and surrounded by an even darker areola. Little goosebumps began to appear on my breast in response to his gaze. He shook his head to come out of his trance be

My bare skin still glistening as droplets of water trailed slowly downward, falling in tiny splashes onto the floor. I let my eyes roam over my damp figure. Then my gaze settled on my neck. I lifted my chin slightly and turned my head to the side, the light catching along the curve of my skin. That was when the marks became clear, reddish impressions scattered across different parts of my neck. I had to inhale slowly as I traced them with my eye. My attention drifted downward when I noticed a few more marks on parts of my breasts. And then I saw bite marks around my nipples.

My eyes locked onto her chest, which, given our height difference, was just in front of my face. Her black bra, made of thin, satiny material, left nothing to the imagination. Every contour of her breasts was visible: their perfect, round appearance, her small rigid nipples, and the circular patches of her areolae. I raised my gaze slightly, taking in the cleavage puffing above the edge of her bra. Her skin glistened with moisture, goosebumps dotting its surface. I briefly wondered what it would feel like to press my lips to her pillowy mounds.