Posted on Leave a comment

How I Feel About My Boobs

Another story from a client.

You asked me how I feel about my boobs. What a crazy question!

Well, let’s start at the beginning.

I remember being 11 or 12 years old, and I really, really wanted to have tits, but of course I was flat-chested. I felt I was mentally qualified to be a woman, and all that was missing was the equipment. Of course at that age, I couldn’t have expressed it like that.

By twelve, they were starting to grow in, and I was worried that they’d be forever too small. I did enjoy fondling my own puffy little breasts. I had my fantasies, mostly involving men, or boys around 14 that I considered men, kissing and doing that to me.

At fourteen, I really started to worry about something else. I was freaking out that they wouldn’t stop growing. I found bras totally uncomfortable. I hated the feeling of sweat under them, and having them pressed to my chest for hours on end. In my bedroom, I’d go around topless. Sometimes, I’d actually try going topless in the rest of the house. My mother and father begged me to quit doing that. My brothers mocked me mercilessly. Sometimes, they’d say my tits were too small, sometimes too big. Whatever they had to say, I hated it. It wasn’t my parents that made me quit going topless. It was my brothers’ incessant teasing.

I guess around 18, I was pretty settled down. I figured my breasts were about right. I’d see the occasional topless woman on the Internet, and I decided I wasn’t as big as some, and not as little as others.

I have a friend, Jules, who is a bit on the small-breasted side. For a few years, like between sixteen and eighteen, she walked funny. I mean, she’d push her chest out a bit more forward than normal. It became a habit with her. She always did it. I guess she was compensating, thinking she could make them look bigger. It made her look ridiculous.

To tell you the truth, I was much more self-conscious about my frizzy red hair, light skin, and freckles. I’ve always looked like a freak, and always will. The freckles cover my face, shoulders and upper arms, but stop at the top of my breasts. That’s probably why I so enjoy staring at myself in mirrors – topless, of course. I like the smooth creamy skin.

Now, my nipples, they are a bit small, if you ask me. I’ve seen women with big, dark areola, and I kind of wish… but, oh well. God gave me what he did, red hair and all, and I’m sure he had his reasons.

OK, so when I masturbate, my boobs play a big part in it. I just love ever-so-light touching of my nipples. When they get hard, it makes me feel more alive. Maybe that’s what you guys feel when you get your erections. I know my clit supposedly gets erect, but I don’t really notice that. Of course, I feel the wetness down there. Anyway, the nipples get erect, and frankly, I could just rub my fingertips over them for hours. I don’t even need orgasms sometimes. I’ll just feel a nipple, or the area right around it, with one hand, rub my pussy with the other, or sometimes, just touch my asshole with a fingertip, and I’m so blissed out!

I kind of like taking a sheet of toilet paper, and dangling it over a tit when I’m laying down. First I let the corner just barely touch anywhere on a breast, especially the underside. What a spectacular tickle. When that effects starts to wear off, I’ll run the corner of that toilet paper, very lightly mind you, over my nipples, and I swear I could orgasm just from that.

It’s usually my right breast. Not both of them. Kind of weird, eh?

When no one is looking, I’ll sometimes try various fabrics against my nipples. I like to lay face down on a sofa or something, propping myself up on my hands, so my nipples are just barely touching the fabric. That gives me electric charges throughout my body. Sometimes after that, I do have to jill myself to an orgasm.

My boyfriend Nelson is an idiot. I mean, he is when it comes to knowing what a girl wants. I’ve told him like a million times that I like very light nipple stimulation. No, the fucker wants to squeeze my tits, too hard!

Maybe I’m a weirdo, but I really enjoy sucking his dick. Almost as much as having it in me. It just feels so nice to have that big old thing filling my mouth the way it does. Except, I don’t want him to cum in my mouth. He did that once, and it grossed me out. I know some women swallow it, but I won’t. Never, ever!

Oh, and by breasts worry me, too. Like, you know, cancer. But mostly, they’re fun, and I’m proud of them. I’ve never actually shown them to anyone. Oh, sure, Nelson has seen them plenty, but I sometimes have fantasies of riding my bike around town topless or something like that. Wouldn’t that be cool?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *