Titty Tribulations

Elsewhere on this blog, in flash fiction erotica tagged as semi-autobiographical, I’ve written about having large breasts.  Well, my lovelies, true confession time. I do, indeed, have massive melons. Tremendous ta-tas. A behemoth of a bosom.  Juggernauts, even.

How big are we talking? DDDs.

I’ll withhold the,er, bandwitdth. That would be a mite too personal.

My boobs’ FB relationship status would be “It’s complicated.” abefd57aae5c5af668ea8025d7e0e084 On the one hand, I love them because they’re part of me. They’re mine.  (Though my guy says they’re his. I think we share joint custody.) On the other hand, they make my back hurt, I can’t see my shoes, the buttons gape on blouses, they’ve been a source of unwanted male attention since I was ten, and my bras truly deserve the name foundation garment – these bazookas can’t be contained by any frilly bit of lingerie.

Oh, and one more thing. The thing that most bums me out. They aren’t very sensitive.

My nipples are the only bits that feel sexual pleasure, and if my partner wants to stimulate them, he has to really pinch those puppies. It’s like the rest of my tits are simply the delivery vehicle for nipples. All that acreage, just along for the ride.

I sometimes think… What a waste of flesh. I’m not going to have kids, being touched there doesn’t get me off, and I have an increased risk of not detecting suspicious lumps because, I mean, damn. Do you know how many lumpy bits are inside really big boobs? Wish I could redistribute a few nerve endings. It’s ridiculous how sensitive my back is. Do I really need to moan and lose my shit just because he rubs a whiskery chin between my shoulder blades? How about a bit of body equity here.

If you’re counting pros versus cons, if you just tick off item by item, the accounts don’t balance. Maybe you’re thinking, wow, poor woman, those big tits are a real trial. Nothing but tribulations.

However, as I said, they’re a part of me and I love them. Much more since I found a guy who loves them.

Maybe love isn’t the right word.

Better words: Adores. Worships. Obsesses over wouldn’t be too strong a claim.

Before him, my FB boob status would have been “We so fucking OVER.” But his appreciation has helped me learn to love them. He has a marvelous sense of humor. Okay. He has a thirteen-year-old-boy’s sense of humor, but so do I. My tits have their own names and personality profiles now. Generally if we’re alone (or sometimes when we’re not, because um, he’s a guy), he is either squeezing or has just finished squeezing one or both.

Hell, it wouldn’t surprise  me to find out they’ve got a secret handshake.

So. I know we’re supposed to be all empowered and love ourselves. And I am. I am, I promise, in lots of ways. But I can honestly say that I developed self-love for my boobs because someone else loved them first.


Waterolor beautiful girl. Vector illustration of woman

This post is my participation in the 5th annual Beauty of a Woman Blogfest (#BOAW16). It’s going on May 2-9, 2016. Check out lots more posts, and chances to win cool prizes, at the BOAW16 blogfest page.

Blog posts could be in one of two categories: Original (real beauty in general) or Girl Boner (the beauty of sexuality). Imagine which one *I* picked? Yes, exactly.

Hope you enjoyed this Girl Boner post.

11 comments

  1. I adore this so much, Devi! Thank you for sharing your fab voice and grand boobs with the fest! 🙂 It’s pretty amazing what can happen when someone else sees such beauty where we see flaws or annoyance. Huge kudos for learning to embrace your breasts as lovely parts of you regardless. We can all learn from that!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh Devi – wonderful post – thank you for opening up about your boobs and your relationship to them.
    Do you know what – I think that it does take other people to love some of the things first – it’s all part of the intricate Web of being alive and learning about ourselves.
    I’m so delighted your guy showed you how awesome your boobs are!
    I’m not that into mine – they’re fine as far as boobs go and I photograph them for SinfulSunday – that helps with my thoughts of them – like I’m distancing myself – they’re not mine so I’m somehow more positive.
    X x x love this post!!!

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks for your lovely comments, Tabitha! Yes, we can learn so much about ourselves through our interactions with others. I’ve not yet had the courage to participate in SinfulSunday, but have taken a few pics in case I get up the gumption. 😎

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  3. Such a great read and love seeing how your relationship with them has evolved over time. It gives hope for everyone that we can all love our boobs, bodies, and beauty even if we’re not right now. And humor always helps 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    • We’re often our own harshest critics. My guy couldn’t understand why I didn’t love my boobs. Unconditional love…it’s an eye-opener. Fun post to write, thank you for commenting.

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  4. You know, I think we ALL have that body part. For me, it was my toes. Kid you not. To the extent that I wondered if cosmetic surgery done to them was a “thing.” It took a foot fetishist lover to teach me.

    As for boobs in particular…I’m not small breasted, but I’m not on the bigger side like every other female on my paternal side. If I hadn’t been very comfortable in the rest of my skin, I might have gotten a complex when an ex asked me if I wanted a boob job. Instead I just dumped the jerk. Take me as I am or don’t, right?

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  5. Speak it, sister! Thanks for reading and commenting. Coincidentally, I also had a foot thing a few years back. From nowhere, I had this idea that my feet were too ugly to be seen in public. I never wore sandals or flipflops. Then my sister treated us bridesmaids to a mani/pedi and when I explained that I didn’t want the pedi because my feet were too ugly to be seen in public, her astonished reaction made me take notice. She insisted I show her my feet. Then she compared our feet and asked “what’s the difference?” She could not understand why I thought my feet were ugly, and my sister is the bluntest person I know. Finally convinced me I’d been delusional. Ha.

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  6. This is a GREAT post! Loving, caring – and still sexy and funny as hell. Thanks for this wonderful read – and the little push I needed to love my DD’s a little more. 🙂 *chuckle* You rock, Devi!! What an add to this blog fest!! 🙂

    Like

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