I’ve been dating this new girl recently, and she is beautiful. Gorgeous eyes, awesome skin, awesome smile. She always smells great. She has an athletic frame that she carries with confidence.
She also happens to have the smallest breasts of any woman I’ve ever dated. There’s no way they’d fill a B cup. In fact, she gets away with wearing no bra at all with many of her outfits, and there’s no problem because there’s no sag. And they look (and feel) awesome on her. Everything from hugging her, to dancing with her, to romps in the sack, are like entirely new experiences! I feel young again! **YOUNG, I TELL YOU!!! ** (I’m actually 32.)
The thing is, I was never specifically a “big boob guy,” at least not consciously. But, as I gazed upon her prone post-coital form the other evening, I realized that breasts are like mountains. Symmetry and surroundings are more important than sheer size.
Take Mount Everest, for example. It’s the biggest mountain in the world, but it’s surrounded by other huge mountains. They so detract from its majesty that as recently as 50 years ago, we weren’t 100% certain that it was really the tallest mountain in the world.
Now look at Mount Fujiyama. It’s far smaller than Everest (isn’t it like 12,000 feet or something?), but it’s the only peak in sight on a flat plain. That, combined with its rare symmetry and form, make it look like the biggest, most beutiful thing in the world. So, yep. Make mine a nice A cup on a flat stomach and I’m golden.
Feel free to chime in with your agreement, disagreement, or accusations of shallowness.