I blasted my wife with this question a bit ago, when it occurred to me, due to some quirky law of physics, that if there’s a hole, one way or another, somethings gonna fill it, and if there’s a crack, by gum, somethings going to make a home there.
Of course, she first shot me a nonplussed look (I’ve always wanted to use that word). Then claimed nothing! I called her a liar, and threw out ideas: Crumbs? An aspirin? An earring? The remote? A D cell battery? Your car keys? etc.
She denied it. Then, ever since I opened her eyes to the science of cracks and holes, she’s since found all sorts of odd items that end up there.
She’s now asked some of her cleavaged friends, and they too have concurred—all though I can’t remember what the odd sundries were, because, y’know… boobs.
Anyhow. Don’t be shy, they’re basically the couch cushions of your chest. Men too I guess, if you’ve got em… (khack)
Well, I used to keep a roll of pennies in the freezer and broke a roomie of the habit of plumbers butt by dropping ice cold pennies there if I caught him bending over and showing way too much disturbing ass cleavage…
When I was in Navy boot camp in Orlando in 1973, we were required to carry any cash we had in a plastic wallet on a chain that we tucked into our bras, hence, in our cleavage. This was Orlando, Florida, in August and September, and did I mention that the wallets were plastic? Nasty, sweaty, gross, and disgusting don’t begin to describe it.
OK, maybe that’s not exactly what the OP was looking for but it’s definitely the most bizarre thing I’ve had tucked that close to my heart.
I’ve never “found” anything in there. I’ve never gone to take my bra off at night and said “hey, look, a Goldfish cracker 'twixt my titties!”
Many things have fallen into my cleavage, but I knew they were there and was able to remove them right away. It’s not like moving the couch cushions and finding a quarter - I have nerve endings in my cleavage skin and I’m going to feel what falls in. No surprises to find later.
I know I once found something ridiculous there, but I can’t remember what it was.
The only cleavage-related story I have at the moment is that a dear high school friend (male, gay) spent our junior prom pitching M&Ms into my cleavage from across the table. It’s true that you can usually sense when something’s there, but sometimes the thing slips down in the crack and becomes difficult to reach. That night when I took off my bra, there were way more M&Ms than I expected.
Guy here, with a butt cleavage story. My example is broken glass.
I used to run on an ambulance crew, and one night we were paged for a motor vehicle accident. I had to do patient management in a partially overturned car, and it was necessary to cut off the roof to extract the patient. I was inside the car at the time.
Normal procedure is to pass a couple of blankets inside to cover patients and crew, but the rescue techs started breaking windows before that ever happened. The back window was popped, and seemingly all of the tiny glass shards hit my back and slid down into my butt crack. I cut loose with a long string of technical language, naturally.
The embarrassing part was after the call was done, having to drop trou for my partner to pull out all of the bits that drew blood.
Somewhat related: there’s a youtube video of a gifted young lady demonstrating all of the things one can hide in one’s cleavage. I will not link it, since it’s slightly nsfw, but it is interesting.
I like money, and I like bosoms, but money from bosoms? No.
Crumbs, lint, the occasional earring, bits of pencil lead if I’ve gotten really exhuberant while drawing, a ticket stub once, I think. Nothing too spectacular.
A friend of mine breastfed her children until they were toddlers and had an ample bosom. When baby is done, she always does a check, because they like to tuck little things in there while they nurse. She’s found Hot Wheels, action figures, bubble wands, chicken nuggets, Barbie clothes, crayons, and binkies (pacifiers). Not all at once, but there was usually at least one thing per nursing session.
