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This is a question Breasts

Your stories on The Devil's Pillows, please.

Suggested by PsychoChomp

(, Thu 6 May 2010, 13:21)
Pages: Latest, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, 7, ... 1

This question is now closed.

This QOTW bores me
So I'll amuse myself by playing with the wife's tits for the rest of the week.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 20:26, 3 replies)
Fat bastard
My father is a fat bastard. When my brother was a baby, he regularly used to try to suck his manboobs. Five-year-old me once laughed so hard at this a little bit of wee came out.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 19:46, 3 replies)
Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder
She seemed unusually flat-chested for age 19, but it wasn't until her mates hosed her down with cold water and pulled her T-Shirt from behind so tight that I could see the corrugation of her ribs that I could clearly see she didn't even have a trace of breasts. Transfixed by the lurid and disturbing imagery was I.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 18:58, Reply)
My boobs are fairly average, being a C cup. Get a few compliments but normally have to enhance them in a fool-em bra....
It's my nipples that cause the trouble. The areolae are pretty small, about an inch in diameter, and medium pink..until I get aroused when they darken dramatically, like I've put blusher on them. Another reason I wear slightly padded bras is to stop my nipples poking through. Slightly chilly outside? Cigar butts. Sneeze? Fighter Pilot's thumbs. Get a little embarrassed? Peanut smuggling.
I find it excrutiating to get the old "blimey is it cold out?" all the time.
However, a midwife once told me I had the perfect nipples for breastfeeding and that is what they're for, after all, not, as one ex thought, for trying to fit down his Jap's Eye...

If Chelsea win the double this weekend I might even flash you all.
Except this QOTW will have expired by then. So I better not.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 18:38, 8 replies)
Breasts are boring
I have large breasts, a G or an H depending on the bra. They're boring. I don't think about them unless my back hurts, the bra rides up, or the underwire digs in. They're just there.

On the other hand, most media references to breasts seem to mean "breasts such as are worn by 18-year-old girls in cartoons: basketball-sized and bouncy as a basketball, hemispherical, mounted high on the ribcage, and bearing nipples like pacifiers." Further, it seems assumed that girls who bear such breasts love their enormous breasts and think and talk about them all the time and find reasons to run chest-first into every man they meet, or (if they can manage it) to wear a tank top or a tight, cleavage-baring blouse or a bikini or, better yet, to somehow manage to be naked, giggling, and jouncing about like a plate of Jell-o. These girls call them "boobs" or "titties" or even "the girls" and at worst only pout ineffectually if other people talk about them in casual conversation. These breasts are sort of like giant, retarded kittens that such young women haul around and present for viewing and discussion several times a day. (They do not appear on older women, say 30 or 35 or somehow even older, who have large breasts only if they are fat or raddled old slags.)

Almost the comics I've seen with giant breasts in them are written and drawn by men, and the giant breasts play a prominent (ha) role in the plot if possible, as is the case in webcomics: week-long binges of sassy bra-buying, getting hit in the face with one's own breasts, failing to fit comfortably in crowded elevators with horny men, etc. What joy! These breasts are much more interesting than real breasts, which just sit there 99.5% of the time.

I'd have them off tomorrow if the surgery didn't leave such hideous scars. As it is, having large breasts is the lesser evil, $100 bras or no.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 17:18, 3 replies)
From the mouths of babes....
Some moons ago, I was bathing my firstborn who was around 2 1/2 years old (secondborn hadn't even been a glint in my eye at this point) when she glanced down at her chest, look up at mine quizzically and said:

"Daddy, when I'm older....will I get boobs like you and mummy?"

I nearly gave up drinking and signed up at the gym. Nearly.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 17:06, 1 reply)
Can we have a question of the week
about when you look at a woman from behind and see the curve of her neck, her cheek and an eyelash kind of peeping out from around the cheek?

Or is that just me?

EDIT: I don't want to do any of the things suggested in the comments, I just like this particular bit of a lady.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 17:04, 5 replies)
Has anyone
retold here
the story of the young boy enthusiastically sucking on the nipple of his first breast in the dark, and having warm liquid squirt into his mouth, and then discovering that he had been sucking on a boil on the breast which had ruptured?

No? Cause it's pretty funny when told right.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 17:01, 4 replies)
A chum of mine
attended quite a well-known, once-a-year, anything-goes sex event in London around Christmas time. I forget what it's called. Someone here will know.

He was actually fairly disappointed. There was plenty of sex but nothing sexy. It was all either perfunctory or profoundly unattractive. There was even a geriatric in a wheel-chair getting head (and good for him, may I add, but no one needs to see that when they're trying to get their freak on). Such events should be the preserve of the young and vaguely presentable, alas excluding the likes of myself...

*blushes with false modesty and awaits protestations to the contrary*.

Anyway, the one positive he took from this pale immitation of Rome's latter days was that there were some genuinely intriguing, if not arousing, visions of depravity. One chap received a jolly good fisting from a dominatrix who then forced an ENTIRE, firm, large breast into his goatse-hole and fucked him with it until he came. I wish my annual prostate check was a bit more exciting but not THAT exciting!
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 17:00, 6 replies)
When I was married
My ex was a bit of an attention whore. She was, although it may be difficult to believe, a bit of a looker with a corking figure and a cracking set of norks. Unfortunately, the package was blackened by her being a demon straight from hell with a set of morals that would make Rose West think "now hang on a minute.....". I never really questioned it though, I learned to live with all the mind games, a deal that was sweetened a little by her being fairly stonking to look at and cuddle into at night and the fact I was as trusting as a kitten. Serious depression and a self esteem problem I still live with seemed a reasonable price to pay. I always thought of myself as a pretty decent person and wasn't really the kind of person who would try and tell her what to do, though even I was pushed to the limit on occasion.

She was, at first, reasonably shy about her figure, but towards the end she liked to flaunt everything she had fairly obviously. Her sister and her boyfriend used to stay at ours regularly, and each and every time they did the tiny satin nightie would get thrown on in the mornings with nothing on underneath it. I was married to her and my eyes were out on stalks, so I couldn't really blame the poor guy for slavering, but it visibly annoyed her sister and it made me feel pretty sick in my stomach, but I knew if I complained the argument would be near nuclear war force. Soi I kept my mouth shut.

This went on for quite a while, and got a lot worse when we went on holiday with her sister and her boyfriend. Practically the entire time was spent with her boyfriend attempting to see my exes gazongas, a situation which I became slightly disconcerted about, but as it was all done in a "ha ha it's all a big laugh" way, I felt I couldn't really say anything. It got to the point where he was sneaking into the bathroom while she was in the shower and such like to "give her a fright". I found myself wondering if it would be so comical if I was to do the same thing and found the answer was probably an overwhelming no on all fronts.

As a weird aside, however, it also seemed to be hilarious for him to pop his girlfriend's funbags out behind my back as well, laughing maniacally as she got all embarrassed and covered herself up before I turned round. Maybe I was just being a prude? Maybe I was just old fashioned and it really was just all a big laugh and not pervy at all.

However, the one time I turned round just as he popped a perfectly formed chesticle out of it's cotton hammock proved me correct in my initial estimations. She said "Did you see that there?" I replied with a large smile and an "oh yes."

He didn't speak to her for over an hour, or me either for some strange reason I still cannot fathom. The hilarious pervy fun stopped around the same time, I seem to remember.

I saw those once-amazing funbags again recently, though, and I reckon my ex won't have to worry about cold knees in the winter. Fray Bentos has a lot to answer for.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 16:50, Reply)
Me mam's funbags under close scrutiny
Close to the end of last year, me mam goes to a private health clinic to have her Bristols checked for any lumps etc. She is ushered into a room with some youngish male doctor who asks if it is ok for him to be the examiner, or if she would want a female doctor/nurse to perform the check.

She's pushing 60 now, so she wasn't really fussy with it and said it's not a problem (the slut lol). She opens her blouse and out pop her "Oh-are-tits'n'bra". A few seconds later she's sitting on the bench feeling akward with her baps on display.

He sticks some gloves on and starts checking away. After a few really uncomfortable seconds, just to break the ice 'n' all, the nice doc decides to ask "Oh by the way, how is Jeccius? I was in school with him ya know."
"Oh errrr..."

Apparently she was a bit freaked by this; that's the kind of detail that you'd expect to hear BEFORE you whap your hammock out in front of your doc and have them examined.

Laughed like fuck when she told me about it later though :)

'ickle RP
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 16:25, Reply)
I was going out with this girl - she was a bit older - and a lot taller - than me, and she said
"D'ya wanna suck on me tits?"

But, I loved her and all, so I said no, 'cos I thought I wouldn't be any good at it, and I was sure loads of other people had sucked on them before.

(7 points)
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 15:34, 2 replies)
In my line of work I see more breasticles than a teenage boy's wet dream.
This has the unfortunate effect that breasts alone no longer do it for me.

It's not all it's cracked up to be, I think part of me has died. I often think back to the 14 year old version of me and how he would high five me as I sit back stage, sipping free booze, watching naked girlies run around and get paid for it.
It truely is an empty life I lead.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 15:32, 4 replies)
First Contact with U.F.O.s
Tits are like the giftshop at the northernmost entrance to Disneyland: A nice distraction for a few minutes but ultimately you get a bit bored and want to venture south and spend a few minutes screaming and swearing while trying not to shit yourself as you ride the adrenaline-fuled main attraction.

Sort of a pit stop on the way to Beaverville.

Anyway, here’s the story of my first ever encounter with these UFO’s (Unobtainable Fleshy Orbs) of tit-tacular wonderment...

Being in your early teens prior the invention of the internet was fucking tough. The closest you got to any kind of porn was getting your grubby mits on a copy of The Sun so you could scrutinize the bird on Page 3. And the closest I ever got in actual real life to seeing a pair of knockers was when Darren Jones’ big sister pulled my mate Trev and I to one side while we were twatting about on her brother’s Atari ST with the sultry words: “If you boys come up stairs I’ll show you a spectacular pair of tits...” and just left the words hanging in the air. Trev and I, realising Darren’s big sister was a bit on the easy side (more people had spent days in her bush than the big fucking leafy fucker they’ve got in Australia), so we scampered up stairs like a dog with two dicks.

Darren’s sister directed us to the bathroom. We drooled our way in waiting for dear ol’ big sis to follow. And she did. And she pointed at Trev and mine’s reflection in the big bathroom cabinet mirror and, cackling, said: “There’s the biggest pair of tit’s I’ve seen in a long long while,” before she fucked off, her jubblies well and truly hidden beneath the furry folds of her big pink angora sweater, never to see the light of day in our prescence.

And then, a few months later, came Amy...

She was the one. That special one. My first proper girlfriend. The first pair of tits I’d seen in my life which didn’t cause the newspaper print to come off on my tongue when I licked them. We’d just watched Space Camp on pirate video and – feeling a little frisky – disappeared upstairs to her bedroom. A bit of inexperienced kissing, fighting our way through her collection of cuddly animals who looked at me accusingly as I tried to mauvere my hand into their owners knickers, and we were on the bed. Petting. Heavily.

Then Amy said those three little words, those three little words which mean so much more than I love you to your average teenage boy. Amy said, motioning down to her budding chest: “Wanna see um?”

I said: “That would be absolutely great, if you don’t mind?” Or words to that effect. And then Amy slipped off her t-shirt, shrugged off her bra, and there... they... were...

... Two of um.

It was a pretty damn spiritual moment. And then Amy said: “Wanna touch um?”

Trembling, I reached out my hand and laied my sweaty palm on her small, bubble-gum pink nippled swelling and... just sort of kept it there for a few minutes, staring, quietly drooling. Then, realising the atmosphere was getting a little weird, I decided I had to put some moves on. I couldn’t just sit here with my hand on Amy’s left tit. I had to do something with it.

So I did. I took her pointy little nip between thumb and forefinger and gave it a good tuning as if I was changing channels on an old fashioned radio.


And moments later I was out on the street. Ear ringing, not really knowing what I’d done wrong, nursing a lazy lob on I could’ve demolished houses with and making a note to myself: If you ever see a pair of those things again, don’t do what you just did cuz it might spoil the moment a bit.

But it was worth it. I’d finally seen a pair of tits. OK, I didn’t know what the fuck to actually do with them once I had them. But I’d seen them all the same. So not a bad afternoon at all. And Space Camp was an OK film too.

Breasts – they’re nice, but I can thing of something nicer.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 14:44, 3 replies)
Wardrobe Malfunction
VERY annoying phrase but points up an interesting gulph between us and the merkins in our attitudes to boobies. Janet Jackson shows about a second's worth of nipple during the Superbowl jamboree when *horror* children might be watching and the press and much of the public went nuts! Over here you'd definitely have to show some gash at teatime to get anything close to that kind of furore going. I wonder ...why?

On a different note, is anyone here on B3ta really into tit-wanks? They don't do much for me. I mean, they're nice obviously but I can't ejaculate off one. Much prefer blowjobs. I used to have a girlfriend with no gag-reflex. You could practically shoot your load into her lungs.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 14:15, 16 replies)
So I asked my girlfriend, who has breasts, whether she had any good stories regarding breasts
she didn't
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 14:06, 2 replies)
Outside a Gay Bar
On a works night out a couple of years ago, a large chested lady I sat next to in the office did something that made me wonder.
We were standing outside a gay bar, waiting for the rest of the group to stagger along behind us before going in together.
She looked me up and down and pointed at my chest and shouted
I gave her a bit of a funny look and she said
"I never noticed you had 'em!"
Being quite top-heavy (28E), I didn't know what to make of this and still don't. More than once I have been told that my breasts are not that noticable. Weird.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 13:57, Reply)
Bibarians and boobs
I like to go LARPing (Live Action Role Play). Last year before our society's annual Summerfest, one of the ladies suggested that she would like to see some of the men dressed up in eighties Conan The Barbarian style fantasy kit, for a giggle.
This sounded like fun to me and I wanted a go, so I tried my best to persude as many people as I could. Sadly not that many men were keen on the idea. Then during one late night facebook chat the idea came that an incentive should be offered, namely that for each man that dressed as a barbarian, one woman would come out for the night dressed in skimpy furs.
The idea caught on, and twenty six people said that it would be fun and they would make kit and wear it, just for a change from the usual medieval fantasy clothes we would usually wear for Summerfest. Also, the society books a scout camp, so there wouldn't be anyone else around to tell us we looked daft.
Summerfest approached, and the society message boards were full of jokes about skinning three dormice or the one lad who was always keen to get his kit off and some people worrying about wobbly bellies exposed, the keen was seemingly there.
Come Saturday night, the bar tent was set up and doing fine trade, I had finished making the fake fur kilt for my other half, some major battles had happened during the day, most characters survived and were celebrating and everyone was in good spirits.
Then the drizzle set in and our Barbarian host was reduced to myself, the lad who always gets his kit off at parties, and another fella who just wanted to wear the fake fur kilt.
We hit the bar and started to behave badly; playfighting, trying to intimidate the barstaff out of charging us for drink, burping, spitting ale at people, shaking hands very vigorously, and not understanding what anyone said. My character was named Boobina by the other barbarians, so I hit them both with a club and ran off giggling like a loon, only to be caught, pretend knocked out and force fed more booze. As the night wore on people stopped asking me if I was cold in my fake fur bikini top and miniskirt, barefoot, muddy and drunk. The chap in the fake fur loincloth and butchers mail started a tag-team fight with the local millitia (which we won) and I tried to find gainful employment as a guard on the gate of the compound.
I was busy guarding the gate, challenging all comers when the mudwrestling started, and costume malfunctions were by all accounts the norm. These were the Bibarians. I'm a little sad that I missed that, it would have been fun to watch.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 13:50, 2 replies)
I need bra recommendations.
Thanks to the underwire in a previous bra coming loose and cutting into me, I am now in pain when wearing a bra.

Does anyone know of a style where the wire at the front doesn't come up too high, because the bra I'm wearing at the moment is resting on the scar and it hurts :(
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 13:47, 9 replies)
Wish I had taken a picture!
On our flight to Vegas last Monday, there was a woman aged around 50 onboard. She was wearing fishnet stockings, a skirt that was more like a postage stamp, and she had full sleeve tattoos on her arm.
She had obvious extensions in her blonde hair, but the outstanding thing that had everybody sniggering was her obvious breasticle enhancements. They were fucking huge. In a bad way. This woman was skinnier than me and looked totally off balance!
Me and the boyfriend chortled quite loudly when she got on, the girl across the aisle from me sniggered and then started laughing, and the guy next to me was trying hard not to laugh until he saw our expressions. In his words...which only made us laugh harder..."it's obviously female, but why in the hell does she think she looks sexy?"

Coming home on Thursday, same guy sat next to us, 3 other people that were on the outgoing flight behind us, and the girl across the aisle all cracked up....the same woman got on, but this time one of her tits had popped out as she was trying to get her luggage in the overhead bin....it was then we realized she had sticky tape over her nipples. God knows why, but you've never seen a bunch of strangers laughing so hard with tears running down their eyes.........
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 13:35, 2 replies)
Cleavage bag
I was in my local corner shop and a girl with absolutly huge tits wearing a low cut top came in. There was CLEAVAGE on display not cleavage. Anyroad she went to the couner asked for some fags and stuck her hand into the CLEAVAGE and pulled out a purse paid for her fags then put the purse and fags back into the CLEAVAGE and pulled out a mobile phone and left the shop chatting away on it.

The guy behind the counter had a similar :o0 expression on his face.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 13:08, 2 replies)
For objects that are globally obsessed about...
...they don't seem to lend themselves to interesting stories.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 13:05, 2 replies)
I have brests, I keep them in a bra.

They are not very funny or entertaining. But, in saying that Mr Freepens likes them more than my jokes.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 12:41, 1 reply)
I work with a woman who wears bras and blouses one size too small.
As a result the blouse strains at the third button - she only ever wears shirt-style blouses: she always has the top two undone.
The tight bra causes pinch cleavage- that and the joining bar between bra cups is always visible.
There is no way a man could not look. Nor women too I suspect. Probably both think the same - 'put them away, love' being the kinder interpretation.
But here's the funny thing, it goes like this.
She walks in and asks a question. I look up and my eyes, on the way to her face, catch for a millisecond on this state of undress. She straightens up and does one of things women do when men stare at their boobs. You know, crosses arms - pulls shirt straight - puts one hand to her throat, or sometimes all three. Which makes me feel like a perv. One day I will have to tell her to get a mirror and use it before she leaves home.
Unless B3ta has any other suggestions ...
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 12:38, 8 replies)
I was in a friends hot tub
the other night with the Mrs and some friends when two of the girls had what is apparently known as a 'tit off' effectively the gist is that they both sat on the edge of the tub and whipped their norks out and the rest of us had to decide which were the best.... 1 pair were fucking massive and the other pair were fairly large too but fake. I didn't know where to look due to the bird being there and refused to mark them. Then they suggested a 'cock off' between me and my mate, but politely declined on that due to my birds 16yr old daughter being in the tub with us all. Good times!
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 12:37, 3 replies)
Oh gosh, I just remembered one
Being a gay bloke, I don't generally have much to do with breasts so I didn't think I would have anything to say on this QOTW but my memory has just thrown this at me...

A few years into our relationship I was invited to spend Christmas with my boyfriend and his family. I had never met them before this occasion as they're in Yorkshire and we're in London and my boyfriend isn't in that close a contact with them in any case.

Anyhow, I met his Mum and his sisters and their husbands and we all got along just fine. His elder sister put us up for a couple of nights while the younger sister cooked a huge extravagant Christmas dinner and then we all sat around opening presents until we left.

So I shook hands with the husbands, kissed his mother, kissed his elder sister and then thanked his younger sister and went to kiss her goodbye.

That's where it all went horribly wrong.

As I went to kiss her, she had her arms crossed and so to steady myself I went to put my arm on her elbow. Only her elbow didn't seem to be in the right place so I tried again. Still it wasn't right so I tried again.

Then I remember noticing how squishy her elbow was and it suddenly dawned on me that I actually had a hold of her breast.

Horrified, I dropped my hand, kissed her hurriedly and we left. She didn't seem to have noticed (how?) and no-one (apart from my sister who thought this whole story was hilarious when I told her) has mentioned it since.

I think the worst part was saying to my boyfriend as we drove away, "I have just accidentally groped your sister."
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 12:26, 3 replies)
Looking at Warren Geary, you'd never suspect.
A respected business owner and devoted family man, the 41-year-old Geary, by all outward indications, would appear to be just like anyone else in this sleepy New England hamlet of 4,700.

But looks can be deceiving.

Dig a little deeper, beyond the many years of PTA involvement and Kiwanis Club membership, and you'll discover a very different Warren Geary, one who derives sexual stimulation and pleasure from the sight of unclothed women. This seemingly normal husband and father of three has a naked-lady fetish.

"I really enjoy looking at naked ladies," Geary said. "I don't know what it is, but seeing women without clothes gets me excited."

So consuming is Geary's fetish, he said he will sometimes pass a woman on the street and catch himself imagining what she would look like undressed.

"I'll often think about naked women, even when none are around," said Geary, who has a collection of magazines and videotapes devoted to naked-lady fetishism, including the 1998 film Boogie Nights. "It's just this fixation of mine."

Geary said he doesn't recall when or how he first developed his strange compulsion for seeing women in a state of rant undress.

"I have no idea how I came to develop these urges. As a child, I found the naked female form gross or humorous, just like any healthy boy," Geary said. "But at some point, I found myself not only enjoying the sight of disrobed women, but actually seeking it out."

Geary said hardly a day goes by when he doesn't imagine women in states of undress. There are no boundaries to when and where it may occur–at church, the post office, the health club, the beach. He even admits to watching TV for hours on end, solely in the hopes of catching a glimpse of bare breasts.

"Sometimes, I'll turn on HBO, and if a movie is listed as containing nudity, I'll watch the entire film–even though I have no interest in the plot or subject matter–just to see the breasts," Geary said. "I know it's wrong, but I can't help myself."

News of Geary's lurid fixation has caused considerable controversy throughout St. Johnsbury.

"It's twisted and obscene, that's for sure," said Janice Alvaro, whose home is just a block away from Geary's. "It makes me very uncomfortable knowing that I live so close to someone like that."

"A man who harbors a secret lust for women without any clothes on is not the kind of man we want coaching one of our teams," said local Little League president Stephen Claussen, who has asked Geary not to return next season after 14 years of involvement. "I don't feel comfortable entrusting our town's children to that kind of a person. What if his presence somehow influences these kids, perverting their normal sexual growth and causing them to develop that same kind of aberrant interest in naked women later in life?"

For decades, psychologists believed naked-lady fetishism to be the domain of a tiny handful of sexual deviants. A growing number of experts, however, now believe the condition to be much more common, with some estimates putting the number of men consumed by the sight of the naked female form as high as 1 in 50,000.

According to noted psychotherapist Dr. Eli Wasserbaum, clear distinctions exist between normal men and those with naked-lady fetishes.

"When a normal man sees an attractive woman, he is drawn to her stylish hairdo, nicely applied make-up and flattering dress, and he reacts with an intense desire to marry her," Wasserbaum said. "The naked-lady fetishist, however, is unmoved by such features as hairstyle and clothing, regarding them as distractions and impediments to the one thing that truly interests him–her naked body."

"In a way, it's very sad," Wasserbaum said. "Instead of being able to enjoy the conversation of a woman over dinner and drinks, the naked-lady fetishist, gripped by his uncontrollable impulses, will only be able to think about whether he'll get to see her naked body later in the evening."

Scientists theorize that naked-lady fetishism may represent a long-obsolete evolutionary remnant, a vestigial instinct that once served some reproductive purpose among early hominids.

"About 70 million years ago, the female form may have served as a visual cue, triggering male arousal for the purpose of procreation," Brown University anthropologist Isaac Gage said. "But the human species evolved beyond that point long ago. Why a small handful of individuals would still exhibit traces of this ancestral evolutionary past is curious, to say the least. But one thing is certain: We should not permit our feelings of shame and ignorance to cloud our perceptions. Geary should be seen for what he is–a deeply disturbed individual in desperate need of medical help."
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 11:59, 6 replies)
I felt less stupid when I learned that some women also like them.
I used to wait tables with a smoking hot bisexual ladyperson.

This made me feel less stupid for being mystified by titties (she had two, and still was) and was also informative for conversations like:

Me- "You should go pour water at table 24" [so as to have a peek at the cleavage, which didn't need to be said as there was no other reason to suggest it]

Her- [moments later] "It's a bra, it's just a push-up bra"

Teachable moments, right?
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 11:44, 1 reply)
Gravity and Time
There was a woman I used to work with who got a tattoo on one of her voluminous breasts. It was positioned so that a small bit of it could be seen poking out from her habitual low cut tops. You know, really classy.

Anyway, a few of us were having an after work drink when the new artwork was mentioned, and she pulled aside her top to show the tattoo. “it’s a Bird of Paradise innit” she said.

Most people made faux appreciative noises, while I had one of those direct link from brain to mouth moments and heard myself saying “Of course, give it a few years and it’s going to look like a fucking Ostrich”. That’s when she punched me.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 11:09, Reply)
Things not to say while receiving an ECG
I have an unfortunate tendancy to panic whenever a medical professional comes near me with a blood pressure cuff. It's completely illogical: "It's going to be high it's going to be high it's going to be high shit it's high". So the doctor decided this time around that to be sure it was white coat syndrome, I was going to have to trot off to the hospital to be groped by several men and then have a 24 hour blood pressure monitor. Oh, the joys.

One of the tests they do is an ECG. I was lucky/unfortunate (you decide!) enough to get a rather good looking young male nurse. He told me that I'd have to strip to my waist and that if I was uncomfortable with it he could go and get a female nurse. Now I'm not particularly bothered about this sort of thing as it's all a professional setting etc and after all, it is just another pair of breasts (albeit mine being the only 22 year old pair he probably got to see all week as it's mostly old people that have ECGs)so I assured him it was ok, stripped off and got on the bed. At this point, can anyone explain to me why they cover your naked boobs with a strip of tissue paper? He had to keep moving it and looking under it anyway! Seems silly to me. Anyway, as I have already pointed out this week, I have been blessed/cursed with a pair of 34Gs (again, you decide which!) and trying to put electrodes around those monsters is not the easiest thing in the world. (Seriously, breasts right over your heart? Lord, what were you thinking? Design fail!) He was talking to me about my degree so we were getting into a nice academic chat about chemistry as he was sticking electrodes on me. I was wearing leggings and boots and didn't realise they also need to get to your ankles. (Ankles? Wtf? I think at this point it's the NHS trying to make patients look as ridiculous as possible while maintaining "It's a medical procedure") So nice young good looking male nurse is forced to ask if he can undo my boots. Obviously I can't undo them because sitting up will mean dislodging the piece of tissue paper and that can't be allowed, despite the fact that he's had a good feel and look already. So as he unzipped my boots I exclaimed "Oh, it's not every day I get undressed by a strange man!"


*Embarrassed silence*

*More tumbleweeds*

Then he laughed nervously. "Oh dear," I said, "I hope I'm not embarrassing you!" We got back onto chemistry very quickly after that.

So the moral of this story girls is:

"It's not every day I get undressed by a strange man" is not an acceptable chat up line. Thank goodness I have a boyfriend or I think I'd be destined to be single forever!

Length? About 2 metres of cable and it lasted about 2 minutes.
(, Mon 10 May 2010, 11:02, 4 replies)

This question is now closed.

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