onlysweetpea
Bluelighter
Breasts have been on my mind as of late, I must admit. I’m a child trapped in a woman’s body, and I cannot take my own breasts seriously. They stick out, on occasion they hurt, I’ve got those permanent grooves in my shoulders from bra straps, I’ve got some left over psychosis from torturous memories of being the only 12 year old in school with boobs bigger than my own head. I found myself staring at them in the mirror this weekend. Supposedly, my best selling point, my gifted cleavage, the only pair of DD’s in my family…where the hell did they come from?
The last guy I slept with seemed to enjoy them more than I do. To me, they’re just the things that get wet when I do the dishes.
Both a blessing and a curse, I’ve been sort of sad as of late because of them. They seem to reel men in, and it’s all good for awhile. But ladies, sad to say, they’re not enough to keep a man around for very long. Being a smart, sometimes outspoken, sometimes rude lil’ grrl, well, I can see how after guys get over the whole boob thing, I can seriously scare some men…men who jump at the words, “I like you.” And immediately repel themselves back 10 feet because what they heard was, “I love you.”
Next time, I will make a conscious effort to explain myself in more detail. Next time, I will say:
“I like you, you know…sorta how I like good hole in the wall thai food, or how I like puppies.”
You know, sorta like the way they like breasts jogging in slow motion. They ain’t in love with ‘em, but they appreciate them for what they are.
The last guy I slept with seemed to enjoy them more than I do. To me, they’re just the things that get wet when I do the dishes.
Both a blessing and a curse, I’ve been sort of sad as of late because of them. They seem to reel men in, and it’s all good for awhile. But ladies, sad to say, they’re not enough to keep a man around for very long. Being a smart, sometimes outspoken, sometimes rude lil’ grrl, well, I can see how after guys get over the whole boob thing, I can seriously scare some men…men who jump at the words, “I like you.” And immediately repel themselves back 10 feet because what they heard was, “I love you.”
Next time, I will make a conscious effort to explain myself in more detail. Next time, I will say:
“I like you, you know…sorta how I like good hole in the wall thai food, or how I like puppies.”
You know, sorta like the way they like breasts jogging in slow motion. They ain’t in love with ‘em, but they appreciate them for what they are.
