Part 1: boob-man

This was going to be a very long story, with tons of background and just a lot of details. To help y'all out (and also to give this blog a semblance of organization), I have decided to split the story into two parts. This portion will just be a nice little set-up for the more juicy Part 2... which I will write tomorrow (hopefully). So here we go.

Since this story is all about my breasts (woohoo!) let me give you a little description of my body. As for sizes, for shirts I usually wear medium, and my jeans run from 6-10 (I even have a really stretchy pair of size 4 jeans that fit), depending on the brand, but I generally fall at about an 8. I'm also nearly 5'9", so I guess my body type is somewhat Amazonian.

Now for the details: since I'm quite tall, I have really long legs and a really long torso... but I'm very curvy as well. And by curvy I mean that someone somewhere in my ancestry had to have been from Africa because I have booty. Big booty. Like the kind that warrants the cat calls and the bend-over-to-stare move from the demographic of men that truly appreciate this sort of thing.

It's big. It's round. And it's fabulous.

By this time of my life, my ass has endured so much abuse that I no longer have feeling there. When someone walks by and grabs it, smacks it, whatever it is they do.. I usually don't react because a) i didn't feel it, or b) didn't think twice about it.

At work, most of the guys and nearly all the girls I work with (I'm a part-time waitress at a big restaurant) will walk by me and grab/slap my ass on the way. Two of the guys call me 'Booty'... and my really good friend from work will describe me as 'the pretty persian girl with the great ass' to people who don't recognize me by name... and after her description suddenly remember who I am.

And, it's my man's favorite thing ever.

Enough about that, it will be slightly important to Part 2.

Now for my chest. Let's just say this... they started growing when I was 12, and then stopped at 13. That's a years worth of growth. What it means for me is that I am a sworn member of the itty-bitty-titty-committee... I think it's fair to say they're pushing a size B. More of a high A.

They're not concave, they're just a bit under-developed.

Now, since I was young I've been very self conscious about my breasts... even my little sister has outgrown me... all of my friends are bigger than me (strangely, most of my friends have enormous breasts..), and it was just an uncomfortable topic for me all my life. Also, I've had a very disgusting and disturbing experience related to my breasts that I shall not cover now (and this one is far worse than the incident in Part 2).

Now, when I first started dating my man, no one -- not even my sister, my mom, anyone -- had seen me topless after the age of 10. So I was quite nervous about letting them be explored, visually and physically, by another person. It was the one hang-up I really had about my body... generally I was pretty comfortable about everything else.

Anyways, the long and short of it is that only one man has had an all-access pass to my boobies... to touch, to see, etc. And now that they are accepted --nay, worshipped-- by the man that loves me, I'm no longer at all self-consious about them. I change freely in the locker rooms, I have changed in front of my friends...

...and I sometimes go out without a bra.



to be continued...