Waiting For Boobos

By | July 7, 2006

As a youngster I always played with the boys. Not like that you dirty minded lot, well sometimes but I’ll cover that later. I think it stems from the fact that there were more boys including the one next door locally than girls to hang around with. So yours truly partook in many lady like games including, hedge jumping (usually resulting in a destroyed privet hedge), Scalextric, Action man war games (using the figure not computer) and although I hate to admit it, football. I never went in goal but I played.

All these activities I took part in just so that I could be involved not because I enjoyed them. It also had the advantage of allowing me to tackle boys I had my eyes on. Nothing like rolling around in a bit of mud, is there Jen? If we scored I got a kiss and a hug as well, who could ask for more at 10 years of age. LOL

I got on well with the boys and the girls I knew for that matter, always been a bit of a joker and that helps break down the barriers. I enjoyed the company of girls but the down side was the constant falling in and out of friendships, with boys that didn’t seem to happen as much. Girls could be so bitchy and it never settled well with me even to this day I much prefer the office to have more male than female employees. That’s from what I can remember, I haven’t worked for so long. 🙂

In those long hot days of my childhood it wasn’t so much about flirting, not in the proper sexual sense. More the holding hands and liking someone lots type of thing. No, on second thoughts I suppose it was flirting but a different level, the non-sexual level. The pre-pubescent type of showing your pants to the boys stuff. Did I tell you just how much I liked doing handstands. I spent more time in my earlier years upside down than anyone I know. Hehehe.

Yes, fliriting proper didn’t really begin until the day I got my first bra and it was like someone had thrown a switch inside my head. I felt sexy and womanly and everyone was going to know about it. I had two little mounds which really didn’t require support at all, more covering up for decency’s sake. So my nipples couldn’t be seen through my blouse. I would have been about 11 years old. I got the bra’s from a local market. They were nothing more than thin material cups on an all elastic strapping.

But to me these bra’s signified the transition from girl to woman. I don’t even think they came in a size, one size fits all (or most). My posture changed over night too. I must have looked like a duck, walking around with my chest stuck right out so people would notice I was wearing a bra. I must admit today I still get the same feeling of womanliness when I wear suspenders, just knowing I am wearing them makes me feel horny!

I paraded around with these lycra bras on for about three months and then moved on to my first fitted, I’ll say it again fitted bra. I was taken by my mother to be properly measured up and fitted by a professional fitter. Know that is a job I would love to do (makes mental note to look in to job requirements. I enjoy fondling breasts will that do?…) . So there I was in my, I think it was a Playtex bra with pretty pink roses. I can hear you all saying, “well what size was it?”. Ok, it was a…32AA but to me it was a proper size and that’s what counted. My breast size could actually be quantified on a measuring chart.

Well, I strutted around like I was the bee’s knees for days. I even had my top buttons open so that people could see it, whether they wanted to or not. That’s if they haven’t already noticed that I am walking like a duck thrusting my little boobs at them. There was far more padding in those bras than breast but that didn’t matter because I felt like Dolly Parton. LOL.

I used to look at magazines and tabloids and wish for the day when I would be able to wear a larger cup. My breasts changed to an A cup when I was in the second year of senior school but my friends were all ample chested, how I envied them as I watched them change for physical education classes. They would strut around with their plump firm breasts exposed deliberately in front of us less fortunate girls. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the opportunity to see some ample exposed breasts as much as the next girl but I wanted MORE!

When I hit eighteen things seemed to change quite rapidly, my breast swelled and perhaps due to boyfriend activity my nipples were no longer inverted. Hurah! They stuck out like they should. I was now officially a B cup and bloody proud of it. I know nowadays C cup is the norm but back then B was fantastic. Flirt, just watch me go baby! I wore some of the skimpiest lowest cut tops I could get away with walking out of the house past my father.

It worked, I started to get the attention from the opposite sex that I had craved for many years. I would now turn heads when I stood at the bus stop. I felt great, womanly, liberated! Somehow A cup breasts on a 5′ 7″ girl do not feel right and now I began to feel more comfortable with my appearance. Plus, I could now give a better tit wank.

Strange to think now that you don’t even have to wait to grow your own. A tit job just like this can be done quite easily but I don’t think I’ll bother. For those of you who don’t recognise the vision in pink on the left, it’s Lea Walker from the 2006 UK Big Brother House.