What My Big Tits Don’t Say

June 2, 2015

Here Alfrédette tells you about the (many) disadvantages of having large breasts.

Sure, it’s nice, it bounces and all, but it’s true that in many situations it’s quite cumbersome and annoying…

I have big breasts and I like them

Myself, I love my breasts. It sounds silly when put like that, but unfortunately it is true for too few of us.

These smart guys came along pretty late compared to my friends, causing me to go through high school with not only greasy hair but also no hips, tits and larger than a Hobbit.

And then one morning (I’m not kidding, I’m convinced they arrived overnight), I went from a comfortable, respectable B cup to a nice C, leaning toward a D.

Without attention, I became a “big breasted” girl. (although this term requires a real definition).

So obviously I was pretty happy: I had always wanted to have it. boobies imposing because it seemed to me a necessary condition for beauty (no) and it turns out that I felt better about myself with big breasts.

It was a distraction for my abdominal muscles and generally a bit of an eye-catcher for the rest.

So I immediately bought a series of low-cut tops to take out Calvin and Hobbes (yes yes, that’s their glory) on every occasion.

Because I have a big mouth and tend to say something when I mean it, I’ve never had a taboo about my breasts.

I preferred to show the world my love for my two new friends rather than hide them or pretend they didn’t exist.

And without realizing it, I let my breasts become part or even all of my identity.

My big breasts are not my identity

I admit that I played it a lot at first, because I was proud of this new asset.

In addition to my wardrobe that I adapted, I played at placing them on the counter when I ordered beer, moving them every now and then to check if they were still there.

From this day forward, my tits they have become my main feature.

While the day before I was a little girl who made a lot of cakes, made stupid jokes and made repeated mistakes, I had become the “big breasted girl”.

But I NEVER considered my boobs as an important part of me, much less my personality!

What doesn’t make me sick or cold gets others completely wrong: I see it as a part of my body as important as my elbows (and less functional) while others see it as proof of the existence of God.

The difference with elbows is that totoches are sexualized, which would justify boring shortcuts and inappropriate comments.

My big breasts attract glances and comments

Of course it started with glances here and there, which didn’t bother me at first: after all I was wearing pumps so it’s normal for people to look at them. (NO.)

We then moved on to observations that also seemed to me an inevitable consequence of my outfit and of the fact that I took responsibility for myself, the price of the glory that comes from it, within the thesis. (Neither).

One of my best friends calls me often” Big tits “, another finds it very comfortable (I understand) to rest his head on my breast, which he kindly nicknamed “ my memory foam pillow »…

And most of my friends have already taken the opportunity to catch them to say hello. Nothing wrong, just clumsiness, but very heavy clumsiness.

We’re not at the market, forget it.

I have big breasts, but it’s not open bar neither

For many people around me, taking my breasts and putting them forward (I would have a hard time putting them back even if I wanted to) is synonymous with “it’s a cute and soft conversation piece.”

I have noticed this situation especially with my friends for whom, since we are in the same boat as females, it is normal to make me sometimes very inappropriate observations about my two best friends.

After discussing this with other knowledgeable members of the editorial staff, we noticed a recurring passive-aggressive tone of comments such as “ Wow, you took off the cleavage »…

When in reality, the smallest stupid H&M tank top IS low-cut as long as it goes above a D! Personally, even a turtleneck is low-cut.

I have big breasts, this does not mean I am a sexual object

Because in many people’s minds, have big breasts = have fire in your ass. If in addition to this morphological gift we had the courage to show them off, we would absolutely have to call the fire brigade.

I don’t count the ” anymore Ah, you want to go fishing tonight! » every inch of skin shown around my cleavage.

Beyond the good old shame on the slut families come out with such stupid phrases, it’s extremely reifying and annoying to make me understand that this top that I love so much is an invitation to make stupid comments to me, flirt heavily with me or worse, insinuate that I don’t EXPECT it.

Why not, indeed, scoop of the year: I wear plunging necklines because it’s cute, not to figure it out. or simply please the eyes of my peers.

I don’t count the ” anymore Oh well, there are people on the balcony! ” and the ” You don’t leave much to the imagination! “, and once again I only quote the observations of those close to me.

I would need more than one article to describe all the sidelong glances and delicate phrases from strangers, uttered with the aim of courting me or not.

A friend of mine actually told me about a train ride during which two charming young ladies said about her outfits: Ah, but these are definitely fake! “.

They are real and they are spectacular.

Luckily, I am surrounded by people kind enough to understand fairly quickly that the problem was not with me and that the solution was not to hide them or be ashamed of them.

I love my breasts, I’m glad you love them too, but can we talk about something else? And then yes, look up here.