September 23, 2004
I think my tits are getting bigger.
Why would I think this? Because for the first time in years, I can see them.
This is not as odd as it might sound. Let me explain.
Over the years, I’ve developed a good awareness of my breasts. Well I’ve had to really. I was flat-chested until I was 14½ and then overnight these things appeared: messing up the shape of my t-shirts and getting in the way when I played racket sports.
Sadly, the days when I used to run regularly are long gone. And it wasn’t the weight that stopped me, but the breasts.
As many women can tell you: the buggers can mess up your balance in the worst way. By the time I reached university, I had resigned myself to some home truths:
- My cleavage was fascinating to other people in ways that I couldn’t comprehend and that I’d have to get used to having conversations with the tops of people’s heads.
- At my cup size, the best I could hope for in a bra was that it was “well constructed”. Pretty details and rainbow colours were not an option.
- I’d have to work a few hours overtime each week to be able to afford a good fitting bra (black, navy or white).
- I’d have to make an annual trip to Marks & Spencer for a fitting.
- Gravity was not my friend.
Don’t get me wrong, it hasn’t all been bad; me and the girls have had some great times.
I became friends with a guy after he admitted he’d had a dream about them.
And then there was the time they got me and 5 friends into a club in America – queue-jumping the 100 or so people in front of us.
The bouncer had been flirting and I said I’d flash him if he let us in. He dared me, I flashed them (encased in a pretty, slightly lacy, golden cream bra that I’d paid a small fortune for: one of the few truly beautiful bras I’ve owned and the colour contrasted nicely against my skin) and we were in!
The bouncer even walked us to the dance floor. And he didn’t even charge us entry! Man, I miss that bra! 😀
So slowly, slowly, I got used to them and learnt to understand their moods and needs. Then I hit an F cup and levelled out and it was great: I’ve had a few years to learn to walk comfortably again and be able to dress properly.
Then the other week, out of the blue, my posture no longer works; my bras are feeling a little close; and I can see the buggers whichever way I’m facing.
And it’s not just me who’s noticed. Some guy totally failed to hear what his wife was saying because his eyes and thoughts were walking me down the road: and another fella did a double-take (I kid you not – Auburn was in fits!) at the traffic lights the other day.
I have no idea what I’m gonna do. I doubt that my travel budget can accommodate the purchase of bigger bras. And just where am I going to find a Marks & Spencer on this side of the world?…
SO TELL ME: What kind of adventures have you had with breasts (either your own or others’)? Oh go on, I showed you mine. 😉
I would appreciate your feedback on developing my travel writing style. Please use the Rate This and Like This buttons as the quickest means of leaving an opinion. If you have time or feel moved to, please leave a comment. Thanks muchly for your time and your criticism. 🙂
SPREAD THE WORD
If you liked this post, I mean really liked this post, why not tell your friends? You could also subscribe while you’re at it. You know, so you don’t miss anything.
AUTHOR: I am might war. I have a love of music, the written word, travel, Anime, polar bears, people and “sticking and colouring”.