The pleasent singing over the next hill piques your attention, and you begin to walk towards the source of the sound when a strange sensation where the sun don't shine causes you to glance down. And then twice.
I mean come on, you've listened to loveline. Your former 6 and a half inch sheath was well above average. This, on the other hand, is rediculous. In spite of your thin stature you're carrying a currently unloaded shotgun that could still choke a horse! Peeking out from under the slope with a sort of reserved modesty is a pair of vollyball sized balls that you can just comfortably walk around. As if you were concerned this was an act of some plaster of paris codpiece you reach out to poke it when the singing over the hill catches your attention again.
You can't go up like this. You're naked and... extremely well endowed and while the rest of this is obviously an insanity trip you haven't lost all common sense yet! Oh dear you're still going towards the hill.
What modestly you have left urges you to peek over the top of the grassy hill so that without being seen you spy an extremely buxom...
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