Important: For all those who might link ALL stories on this site/ blog to me, there are stories that 'belong' to friends -- women unfortunate enough to have suffered the ultimate betrayal at the hands of men they trusted most -- these stories have been written in first person NOT because they are my stories but because writing in first person carries more impact. And perhaps gets the message across. This is a story of child abuse. Not mine...thankfully, not mine...
Once upon a time, I had love handles and a butt and Big Breasts. Once upon a time there was more of me to hold on to for my man. Or men. Once upon a time, filling up the First Thing You Will Notice About Me slot on social networking sites was easy too. I'd usually respond with a -- 'They stare you in the face', or 'Meet the Twins' or simply they come in twos... like eyes, feet. :) Once upon a time, if I sent a mail asking friends to enumerate what (all) they like about me — yup, secretly suffer from periodic bouts of extreme low confidence, usually around full moon, apparently the signs of a genius, yeah — one or at least two of my male pals would have responded with a, "I love your bust size".
My Big Breasts taught me a lot. Like the reason why a woman's mammary glands are called Hooters. Mine didn't honk, but they sure got the same reaction: they announced me. Once of the favourite jokes (on me of course) in my Booby Days went: "Her boobs are so big they enter a room before she does." Not very bright or original, but the words created the right image. 'Meet Darla & Dorothy, the Talking Twins. Ta Da.' Or perhaps Ta Ta? Big Ta Tas. My Big Breasts also taught me to work really hard at an existing one and particularly at a new job. I was initially unsure if I had landed the job because I was promising or because I 'looked' promising. You know, the 'it's nice to have a nice pair of jugs around' kind of mentality. So I worked really hard at proving that even if they jiggled, they didn't prevent me working.
My Big Breasts were also a great way of reading men. (to be continued...)
Post Scrap: And the Princess looked inside her dress and yelled, "Oh my god, they are gone, they are gone!" And the crowd looked and laughed and said, "What's a Princess without the Royal Assets?"
November 28, 2006
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3 comments:
and it would still send red chillies up the princess's arse if anyone called her 'boobies' !!
they certainly are a big sales pitch tho
aww man..the case of the missing boobs. what is a gal to do? i do agree though, sometimes a good set can really lift ur flagging confidence (ahem, even without a wonderbra)
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