Her bodice sprang open, a button pinging off an exposed heating pipe, the pressure of her heaving bosom simply too much to be contained by that delicate satin garment. The boobs thus exposed, he could scarcely be forgiven for succumbing to his excitement, although it was generally agreed later that he should at least have got the old chap out before it gooped into his vicuña-acrylic mix Y-fronts.
Baby don’t do me wrong
She tore open his flesh excitedly, holding him down and thrusting her face in to guzzle away at the blood and blubber as he roared in agony.
Suddenly the wrapping paper, the champagne, the excitement and the excess of roughage all got to him, and he flopped out a hot, brown Christmas present right onto the floor, where it was immediately trodden on and tramped around the house before anyone realised.