I knew this girl. She was wonderful, she made me happy, and she liked me. For those transgressions, I never forgave her. She was a bright girl and should have known better, and such foolishness in showing affection was not looked upon favorably. Once, she asked me my opinion of women who wore shirts with no bra underneath them - specifically, if they looked sexy. At the time, I was young to this world and, having grown up in a relatively rural area of Indiana, could think only of chain-smoking grandmothers in muumuus, dirty hippies at Aldo, and that fat retarded girl whose locker was about four down from mine in high school. Being thus a product of my sheltered and backward environment, I answered, demonstrably, "no".
Friends, we have not all said such foolish things.
She then acted surprised and wondered, appropriately, instinctively, if I had in mind what she had in mind. Which was, "But what about a girl like me, young and nubile and possessing of perky breasts, or those quite like me, whose similarly small but firm funbags are not in need of a bra and, in fact, when flaunted nakedly underneath a thin and tight tee are easily recognized as being laid bare?" Such wonderful points this girl made.
After that conversation, clouds parted and a chorus of cherubs sang a sonata; flowers bloomed beneath my feet and a huddle of puppies came rushing to my warm and open embrace. It was the dawning of a new day, a new era; it was, simply, the beginning of the rest of my life. What a thrill to see a young lass wearing nothing but a low-strung summer top, alert nipples pushing lightly against the fabric, signalling to the world, "here we are, we represent smallness but also confidence; we stand proudly with the knowledge that minimalism is the natural compliment to significance, and we do not need support."
The trick, of course, to pulling off the braless breasts is a woman's awareness of her Russel Stovers' size and shape, for disastrous results can befall the woman whose breasts are either too small (thus not giving shape to the shirt and hanging like a dishtowel over a boyishly-flat chest) or much too large (see above re: chain-smoking grandmothers and retards). Only women with perfectly smallish but shapely breasts can get away with it, and when they do, it's like God has made His presence felt once again; be still and you may feel His hand upon your shoulder as you stare at His wondrous creation. Whoever among us says that He is not a partisan creator has not seen the sights I have seen at the frequently visited Los Angeles outdoor mall "The Grove".
But lest you think I myself am partisan, let me point out now that this post is not to decree any personal value judgements regarding the shape, sizes, smells, demarcations, or consistencies of breasts. I'm actually a bit of a dilletante when it comes to the breasts of the fairer sex; I prefer those in column A as much as I prefer those in column B. Sure, larger breasts look better, they seem better when you're staring at them lecherously in the fruit section at Ralph's, but we all know that looks can be deceiving. Sometimes that which appeals to our sights doesn't appeal to our touch, and vice versa.
It sure is a crazy, mixed-up world we live in, huh?
This morning as I left my local Starbucks with my "half-caff" in hand, I climbed into my masculine and intimidating vehicle and noticed, walking past my sweet ride, a quite large-breasted woman wearing nothing but a thin t-shirt, her boobies entirely unsupported and flashing the high beams to all who caught sight of them. Ladies, do not do this. It is tacky. Leave that move to the women who can and should pull it off. You have your large breasts and men love you for that. That won't change, nor should it. Large breasts are utterly fantastic (I couldn't help myself!!), but as such valuable commodities, they should not go forth into this dangerous world unprotected - cover them and tuck them in goodnight and, if chance should allow it, let us wake them from their slumber and pull the blanket from their resting state ourselves.
Be kind and understanding, ye ladies of large and amazing boobies, and let the smaller-breasted women have their time in the glorious, glorious sun. Time spent a little more free, a little less covered, and way freakin' hot. I thank you; the enlightened men of America thank you. And to those of you ladies out there who have the goods and have thought about going au natural but weren't sure if you could pull it off, I implore you: just give it a shot. I swear I won't stare at you like I did at that one girl at the mall the other day, but seriously, those were some really awesome boobs, they were completely rad.
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Be kind and understanding, ye ladies of large and amazing boobies
This is 24-karat comedy, young man.
Only you can make several paragraphs about breasts sound so good. And not at all chauvinist...simply hilarious.
Best. post. ever.
While I do appreciate small breasts, I do have to give a well deserved shout out to large breasts and the entirely underappreciated medium breasts. I would rate my girlfriend's breasts as medium sized, and I would also rate them as awesome. Nary a night foreplay has threatened to dissolve into a full-pledged session of breast appreciation.
For the record, I'm not only into my girlfriend because of the rack or the caboose. It's that big sexy brain of hers
I'm a little late on this one. But being a woman of sizely breasts I have to say we don't need to always cover them. I myself have gone many times without a bra, it's just a little trickier to know when and where. T-shirts = bra. work = bra. halter tops = nope. Saturday night = nope. There are far too many factors that come in to play for a blanket statement that large breasted women should always wear bras.
Anonymous: Please get in touch with me soon so that we can set up a time and place in which it will possible for you to exhibit your interesting theories. Without physical proof, I'm afraid I just can't believe you.
Thank you for your cooperation in this wholly scientific endeavor.
Sincerely,
The AM
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