may 25th...if you've got em, flaunt em!

If you've got em...flaunt em!
Current mood:busty!

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This entry into the random-e files is dedicated to a subject matter that I’ve wanted to cover for a while now…my fascination with BOOBIES.

Tits, jugs, knockers, boobs, bazookas, melons…the quantity of euphemisms is endless it seems! Some people even name “the twins” but I’ve never been able to come up with anything clever enough. And yes, this is still a woman writing this blog and no, I haven’t decided to switch teams. I’m still a cock junkie at heart but boobies are kick ass. However, it wasn’t until recently that my fascination and appreciation for these marvelous mounds of mammary goodness developed.

I have a long relationship with my breast that hasn’t always been pleasant. At the age of 9 and while completing my 3^rd grade year in elementary school, I developed quickly. I went from a boyish figure to curvy hips, a defined waist and some serious boobs. I started the 4^th grade in a B cup, the 7^th grade in a C cup and the 10^th grade in a DDD cup. By the time I graduated from high school at the age of 17, I was not even 100lbs. and wore a G cup! No, that was not a typo. A fucking G cup.

I always looked at them as beasts. These terrible, horrible beasts that prevented me from running, from wearing bikini’s, from buying cute shirts that had buttons up the front because if they fit my bust, they were enormous everywhere else. By middle school, specifically my 9^th grade year, I was ridiculed. Called names like dolly parton, ten ton tits, big busted bitch and tits mcgee just to name a few. I even went so far as to bind them with an ace bandage in the girls’ bathroom before my first class of the day. I hated them and their limitations, their endless scrutiny and the hurt that came along with being a "woman" when everyone else was still a "girl".

The twins and I did had some fun in college but I still had a great deal of shame and disgust over my incredibly out of proportion accoutrement’s. By the time I hit 22, I was fucking DONE with these things. I wanted them gone. I was a whopping 110lbs. and forcing myself into a GG cup….and my cups overflowethed! Granted, men liked the old fun bags but they didn’t have to sleep in a bra every night, nurse a sore back and neck, wear pads under their bra straps so they wouldn’t dig into their shoulders and break the skin. Nope. They just got to play.

With the help of fantastic insurance, an incredibly plastic surgeon, support from my friends and family and accrued vacation time at work, I took the plunge. After nearly 4 hours of surgery, a little over 3lbs. of my chest was gone. I was a new person. I was a fucking Barbie doll with my perfect, perky little 34C’s that were glorious, round and firm. Unfortunately it didn't last for long. The very next year I met fucktard and began eating my way into a bad marriage. When you gain over 100lbs. in a little over 6 years, well, shit doesn't look the same anymore. Back to the G cup! With all that said, I began hating the old girls again. This time even more so because, like the rest of my sexual being, they went unnoticed, untouched and unappreciated.  

But all of that has changed. Yes, they are still enormous mounds of flesh that get in the way of most everything and I am still overflowing most bras but good golly miss molly, these things are magical. They are big, round, still pretty darn firm, if I do say so myself,  and I am finally learning to wear them proudly. I have found a man who appreciates them, treats them with great care and affection and he finds them and all of me beautiful. I have noticed that I play with them more (yes, boys, women play with boobies too). In fact I never really thought much of them in the way of sexual pleasure but I have a new found appreciation for the level of sensuality and arousal that can be achieved. Granted, I think this has something to do with a certain man’s ability and skill level but I don’t kiss and tell. No wait, yes I do…the man knows how to appreciate the female form.

I want to display them in sexy bras and deep v-neck shirts. There are even days when they just look so outstanding that I think it’s a shame to keep them hidden! Hell, I even notice other women’s cleavage and make comments about how good they look. Sounds weird but seriously, I’m always excited to see someone putting them out there. Letting them be appreciated for what they are…and exquisitely sensual part of being a woman.

It’s a big step for me. To go from hating such an integral part of my femininity to being proud of it is something I didn’t think could ever happen. So I say, if you’ve got them, flaunt them. Wear them proudly ladies. I know I will!