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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, 6, 5, ... 1

This question is now closed.

In 1982 I was 9 years old. We went on a family holiday to Salou with my cousins family. Topless sunbathing was a new thing to us and very exciting to say the least. Me and my cousin were loving it and were amazed that our dads hadn't really noticed it. In fact, they were more bothered about the pollen count. They mentioned the pollen count daily, usually when we were on the beach and a discussion was held as to whether it was low medium or high. Strange behaviour.

5 days into the holiday I learnt that 'pollen' count had a different meaning to what I thought.


Clever way of talking about tittybongos without the kids realising.
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 18:48, 1 reply)
If you've only just had a sex change,
are the things on your chest bewbs?
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 18:22, 1 reply)
*Starts reading some of this weeks stories*...
I think I'm gonna need to get a man-sized box of tissues here on the double.

Giggity Giggity Goo.
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 17:41, 5 replies)
If you look closely at a map of Europe
you can totally see a pair of Brests.
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 15:50, Reply)
... so anyway - I went into this pub with my mate, and the barmaid there had MASSIVE norks.
We're both ale drinkers.

"Yes, darlin' - what can I get you?" she asks.

"Two pints of Bristols, please ... two pints of BITTER! Please ... " I splutter, going absolutely fucking crimson as I take a scowl that would curdle Simon Cowell's own porridge.

I go to the table with our pints, and reiterate the event to my mate.

Kindly, he reassures me it's fine - "It's perfectly innocent" he says, "It's known as a 'Freudian slip' - it's when you accidentally say what you're thinking about instead of what you meant to say. I do it all the time. For example this morning at brreakfast, I meant to say to my wife 'Could you pass me the TOAST please', and instead I accidentally said 'Thanks for fucking up my entire bloody life you fucking bitch.'"
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 15:44, 2 replies)
My friends' sister is a stripper...
...fanTAStic body, but not much bewbage to speak of. That doesn't stop her getting them out at almost every single party she goes to. Honestly, she'll just be sitting there, then whip her top off, and when all the guys start staring/drooling and the girls start giving her Looks, she'll do a faux-defensive "whaaat? They're only BREASTS" as if having them out is the most normal thing in the world.

Anyway - this one time her, me and a couple of friends are outside their house loading up the car. A group of 14 yr old boys walk past, and are obviously checking her out (great figure, remember). They ask some cheeky question, just to get her attention. She doesn't says nothing, but turns to face them, and lifts up her top to give them a full on view.

Reader, you have never seen a look of such universal joy, delight and suprise on the faces of a group of teenage boys as we did at that moment. You just KNOW that's going to be their fapping material for the next few months, and they're going to be telling ALL their friends.

She's clearly a bit mad, but you've got to admit; she knows what an audience wants, and is KIND and CONSIDERATE enough to indulge them. I think all women could learn a thing or two from that.
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 15:26, 8 replies)
Baby, it's cold outside...
My ex used to work at the local Health Authority with a very nice woman called Nicola.

Nicola was very pretty, slim, and not without an impressive pair of norks (not as nice as the now missus DG's, but nice all the same). Nicola also had a prediliction for wearing some figure hugging tops, which caused great distractions among the male members of the office.

The Health Authority HQ were, at the time, situated in the grounds of the local mental hospital (I'm not joking) and had some very nice grounds around which to walk. Nicola had decided to go for some fresh air at lunchtime.

It was, by all accounts, a fairly cool day. The combination of impressive norkage and tight top, together with the cold air outside, had combined to conspire against our heroine, for not long after she'd got back into the office, her colleague Ian went across to her to ask her something.

"Excuse me, Nippola..." he began, then realised just where he was looking and what he'd just said.

She turned red. He turned redder, and muttered something about "It doesn't matter, I'll ask 'X' instead", before fleeing the office in embarrassment.
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 13:44, 1 reply)
Now, as I've admitted before, I am a larper, and I am sure there are more on here
Now, if you are a girl larper PLEASE stop wearing corsets which show off so much bosom that running sets off some kind of self perpetuating wave of booby flesh. Since larp involves running and fighting, this will occur more than you would think possible. I am not a boy, so I guess I'm not the target audience, but really, is it necessary?
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 13:42, 9 replies)
An ex-/breast related pearoast
Strolling along Torquay promenade one sunny day with the ex, all was peaceful until he glanced over the sea wall and noticed the topless women sunbathing. The effect was electric - his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

'They're topless! They're just lying there, with no tops on! You can see their boobs!' he gasped, never taking his eyes off the naughty breasts.
He stumbled on, clanging into benches, bins and signs, not caring how he was maiming himself, for the whole stretch of seafront.

I'm sure the bruises were worth it.
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 12:41, 4 replies)
A Chippy in Huyton near Liverpool.....
.....a buxom young lass is serving the queue as I get to the front.

Buxom young lass: "What you having?"
Me: "Fish and tits please?"

I never went back.
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 12:18, 3 replies)
First grope...
...as a 1st yr Secondary Modern School pupil in the woodwork class, defenceless girl named Collette sharing my bench, over-developed breasts spilling out of her bra, jiggling cleavage in a tight white 'Simon' shirt, I couldn't help myself to a sly double handful from behind, as she struggled with the tenon saw...

(, Sat 8 May 2010, 10:29, 5 replies)
C Cup Average
One of my exes was a largish woman (larger than me, which is a fucking cake eating achievement) but had tiny breasts, the gods weren't kind on her. Even with the amount of pie & pasty based material she ate, you'd think some would find a way to help protrude her mammary glands. Not so.

She was a manipulative cunt at the best of times, hence the overall rudeness of this message, and in the end decided to have an op to enchance her bust, and she ordered an E cup.

This was back when it wasn't on the NHS, so bless her she smashed open her penny jar & counted up the money.

Being a bloke, I've no idea how much breast enlargement surgery is, but imagine the op was £2000, she had £1000. Enough effectively for one breast.

Which is what she fitted. The private doctors did try & talk her out of it but alas patient always has the choice.

It was fine out on the street, as tissue paper & socks padded out the other side, but by goodness it was odd looking at au naturale.
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 10:01, 1 reply)
Boobs and how to appreciate them.
Ladies, if you are abundant of bosom then prone to wearing outfits that leave the upper slopes uncovered and open to public scutiny then you cannot complain too much if you get attention.
However there is attention and then there is attention.
Let me paint you a mental picture. It is a sunny day in downtown Portsmouth. Yours truly is leaning up against a bus-stop wondering how late the bloody thing will be this time. A young lady hoves into view and sits down.
Nature has been kind. Nature gave her a double helping of booby goodness then dropped a couple of spoonfuls on top because it was in a good mood. She clearly took a certain pride in her mammary mightiness because she'd invested in a push up bra and a low cut top. The end result was to give her her a continental shelf of bosom that would make Dolly Parton nod in grudging approval and when she sat down I now had a perfect perves-eye view down her top.
Now being a gentleman I take a moment to quietly enjoy the view before me then return to my book. The two young lads that enter the busstop next don't quite get the idea. Violently nudging your mate while crying "BoobsBoobSBoobs" and pointing...Oh subtle boys, very subtle.
There really ought to be classes in this sort of thing.
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 9:46, 3 replies)
Dear voter,
My collegue has just done the count for a South coast station.
Now I know it was one of you who put the magenta cock on the ballot paper, I only wanted to point out the question this week is about tits. As much as your vote may have been for one particular cock, it wasn't small enough to count for one candidate. Perhaps a CDPOT next time?
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 9:20, Reply)
I am not a regular poster on QOTW, but, when the subject matter is one off fascination for ½ the planet (I have not taken account of gay ambivalence in this figure) I though I’d better investigate and deal with it.

In order to first understand the male predilection with “mammalian protuberances” I decided to research what was considered the Determinants on Female Attractiveness and found quite an unusual comparison between the number off factors between males and females.

These were listed as below:
1 Determinants of male physical attractiveness
1.1 Build
1.2 Height
1.3 Variability in preferences

2 Determinants of female physical attractiveness
2.1 Signals of youth
2.2 Breast size
2.3 Proportion of body mass to body structure
2.4 Waist-hip ratio
2.5 Height
2.6 Prototypicality as beauty
2.7 Skin tone

I always knew that women were far more complex than males, but I had never seen the definitive list of physical measurements before. Interestingly, to get back on topic “breasts” were the second most important factor.

To further research, I took it upon myself to check out Desmond Morris, the author of “The Naked Ape” for a bit off “history” on the subject. Desmond obviously has run a check on the whole affair and came up with this.

"Other anatomical features also evolved to entice mates, they all appear on the front of the body--as if to encourage frontal copulation. Fleshy earlobes, protruding noses, red lips (which Morris says were designed to mimic the genitals), and swelling breasts evolved as sexual signals to invite copulation from the front."

"These have no physiological use whatsoever and biologists agree that their original function was sexual invitation. These sensitive, fleshy, delicate areas expand by one-third during intercourse. The nipples harden at the slightest touch, and for most women fondling of their breasts stimulates their desire for intercourse."

Perhaps the breasts mimic the fleshy, rounded buttocks that attracted males during rear-entry intercourse. Whatever the case, protohominid males liked them in yesteryear. Those with larger breasts had more young than those less endowed.

So, our reason for this fascination came from our hairy arsed ancestors who based a woman’s shaggability and thus the survival off the species by the size of her breast’s …Coool!

However, thanks to evolution and science, this need not necessarily be the case anymore and, to be honest, I am surprised that South east Asia became the most populous area in the world as the Asian boobage factor is not necessarily the highest in the world.

The Asian physique, generally petite does not happily accommodate significant “breastal regions” and off late, there has been in increase in the “Augmentation Industry” targeted at the South East Asian market in both the surgical and enhancement product area’s.

My particular favourite is the Yokoyama Corporation’s F-Cup Pudding snacks.

These products, widely sold in Japan have e magic ingredient called pueraria mirifica, a plant containing phytoestrogens that is being marketed as a natural breast enhancer. The mango-flavoured pudding snacks also contain soy protein and red clover, other products with phytoestrogens that, it should be noted, are used for treating menopause.

Moving along, here in Indonesia the whole subject is a bit risqué, especially with the possible implementation of the new “Pornography Bill” which has been much discussed in other parts of the blogosphere,

This bill will however probably not stop Djarum, one of the countries largest tobacco giants working on the principle that “Tits Sell”

Djarum had discovered that there was a potential market in Hungary for their clove flavoured cigarettes and embarked on a marketing campaign to break into the product within the country. Problem was, how to market the trade mark smell of Indonesia within Eastern Europe using traditional Indonesian values and advertising skills.

In Indonesian campaigns, the Djarum marketing executives have traditionally used hostesses who display a wholesome image, slightly taller than the norm, more décolletage than the lady next door and, if possible, fairer of face.

The Kretek, or clove flavoured cigarette is almost an Indonesian Trademark and Djarum sought to export this unique cancer stick. For Hungary, it was clear that the "girl next door approach would not work so, screw the traditional values, bare breasts and body paint were the order of the day. Want to make your average Boris start smoking kretek, easy, get him fair and square between the sights of two larger than normal breasts and he will succumb. And those wacky Hungarians went for it...Big Time.

So, there it is. Tits sell!

I must however admit that my personal preference is for the more delicate design in this department and, I will prove this by posting a picture of (in my opinion) the nicest pair of tits I have ever seen.

Great Tits
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 6:38, 14 replies)
Reading these posts, a couple of points (ouch!) spring to mind:
1. What could've been a pervfest has actually turned into a rather thoughtful discussion of the realities of breasts and their upsides and downsides (snicker!).
2. Lots has been written about breast reduction, but nothing about enlargement. The general concensus seems to to be that natural is good, whatever the size.
3. B3tans seem, on the whole (oh, stop it!), to be pretty sorted about the whole issue.
That's three points actually, which reminds me of someone I once knew who had three nipples. Awfully sensitive about it and wanted to have surgery to remove the extra one...
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 6:32, Reply)
Brandy Taylor...
...during a dry spell I've been known to tug myself stupid while watching her documentaries...
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 2:39, 1 reply)
"Alright love? Nice tits"
That is my most successful chat up line

I do have quite low standards however
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 2:32, Reply)
Either you're all pretending you date Keeley out of The Sun... Or you're all married to fat birds.
Given some of the number/letter combos you're all happy to spout out this week.
It's also been a cracking opportunity this week for the big birds to pretend they fancy other birds.

I declare this week's question a win for lying, fatties and attention seekers.
The QOTW Trinity.

Then I knocked out Mr T.. etc.
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 2:15, 16 replies)
continental holidays
When I was younger and the family holiday would often be a trip over to France (as my mum is a massive francophile and talks the language like a local) we had been to various bits of France - Bordeaux, Paris, Nice- but this time we were to go right down to the very South, along the coast from a town called Frejus.

On the South coast of France, on the Med, there is a thing calld Topless Sunbathing and it was pretty much the majority choice amongst ladies there. So, I - the 9 year old boy - was taken by may parents to many beaches that were all loaded with sexy tanned young slips of women parading about with their boobies out, proud and unashamed. This was a bit much for me as I wasn't used to this kind of non-prudish behaviour - I had to look and look and look whenever I got the chance. Cue my mum sharply snapping at me 'stop staring at all the ladies!' on every occasion. NO FAIR! YOU BROUGHT ME HERE!!!

On the occasion that we actually went into Frejus itself, it turned out it was a well known nudist resort- but there it was different.... octogenarians with more loose skin hanging down than could make a very fetching zombie cape, and despite the fact it was ALL on display, I could not bring myself to check it out....

(reminds self to check out prics on Lastminute.com for just up the coast though)
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 1:53, 2 replies)
Thanks for the mammaries
...is what I told her after we had broken up on good terms. And it was true, she had the roundest, perkiest, sizable pair I had ever had the pleasure to fluff and suckle upon ( up until that time, at any rate). She left overseas to teach English and I began dating another lass with great boobies, but not as great as Erin's boobies, which to this day still fills a large file in my spank bank. Little did I know that my current (shiny new) girlfriend was an insecure and possessive nutter. That is until I received a letter in the mail from the ex,complete with an exquisite picture of her fantasical bewbs and the moniker "thanks for the mammaries" written on the back. As we were still friends and her fun bags were what I can only describe as full of win, I pinned the photo to my bedroom wall.

Needless to say, when the current GF saw it shit hit the fan and the floor and the roof and the photo was "displaced", and even to this day I cry myself to sleep each night, face buried in my pillows, pretending that I am lacrimatng on my ex girlfriends glorious norks. I am such an idiot.
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 1:23, 4 replies)
Kinda like comfort food.
I dropped my wife and young daughter off at the in-laws' house on Wednesday of this week because she had a doctor's appointment in her hometown. This gave me the rest of the week at home alone. So last night I made plans with a few mates to go out Rock Climbing at a local indoor gym.
The gym is on an island halfway across the bridge between 2 provinces (in Canada) and is somewhat tucked away. I parked my Jeep in one of the few available spaces and we went inside for some climbing and general messing about.
The place was packed, with ladies and gents of all shapes and sizes. It's a fairly large gym with about 6 different sections to climb in, all with varying degrees of difficulty in climbing. We spent about an hour and a half climbing and generally just enjoying ourselves.
Anyways, after the hour and a half my mates and I decided it was time to leave. Upon exiting the establishment I noticed glass on the ground beside my Jeep. Funny thinks I, that wasn't there when I... shit, the window! Shit, all my and one of my mates' stuff.
They had taken my bag with my phone, new sunglasses, change of clothes, shoes, bodywash, anti-perspirant, water, building pass (national defense) and wallet which had everything (driver's license, military id, credit cards, bank cards, health cards, daughter's stuff, etc) as well as my mate's bag with his wallet, 400$ cash, and his apartment keys.
I borrowed my mate's phone to call the police and file the report, then the military police to report the stolen access pass, etc. We drove around looking for anyone walking with the bags but no luck, based on the credit card charges made, they were long gone.
I decided to turn in for the night. I drove all the way back to the in-laws', with a garbage bag taped over the rear side window, in order to see my wife as I didn't have a phone or anything at home and couldn't really get in to work the next morning without any id anyway.
Upon arriving, all was suddenly better. As previously mentioned, I have a young daughter. 3 months old to be precise. And what happens to women after giving birth? In particular, my wife, 3 months after the birth...

Yes, they are currently 32GG.

I slept well last night with those comfy pillows. :)
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 1:23, Reply)
Maybe some b3ta women will agree with me...
...a little while ago, at a party full of people who should have known better, some girl mates and I fell into conversation about whether or not it's possible to admire another girl's norks without necessarily having to be bisexual. Because of our chosen social scene, a lot of women we know wear tight-laced and/or steel-boned corsets, which do amazing things to even the littlest boobs. We agreed it was possible to make an objective judgment about the aesthetic qualities of another woman's tits without fancying her. Is this the case, or are we just a load of closet cases?
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 0:47, 5 replies)
I love men, I swear it officer
I was stalked for a while by another female who was quite in love with my breasts for whatever reason. But that's not what this story is about.

A year or so after my horrified-moment-of-realization mentioned in my stalking post, I started doing regular check-ups with another high school friend. We'd get together on instant messenger and trade information about the Lesbian Stalker. It was a mutually beneficial relationship: my friend hated the Lesbian Stalker and loved gossiping about her, and I wanted any information that might imply that my stalker was going to murder me in my sleep and hack off my breasts as some sort of trophy.

Like I mentioned, my Lesbian Stalker's Ex-Boyfriend (LSEB) got in on the action. What I didn't mention is that he sent my friend naked pictures of her. It all started like this:
Friend: "LSEB sent me naked pictures of LS. Wanna see?"
Me: "Dear god no."
Friend: "Really? Here, I'm sending them to you."
Me: "Why? Why would you do that?"
Friend: "She has these perfect little breasts, you have to see them."
Me: "No. I don't"
Friend: "I think her boobs are more perfect than mine. Just look at the pictures."
Me: "Fine... okay... yes, they're pretty nice I suppose."
Friend: "Damn it. I'm jealous. Do you think they're better than mine?"
Me: "Beats me, I've never seen yours. Pics?"
Friend: "Oh... hold on... there you go"
Me (secretly thinking that my friend's breasts are vastly inferior): "Uh, oh... god... um, apples and oranges. You have lush bouncy squeezability, she has a perfect little porn-star A-cup. It's hard to say who wins."

Side note to men: in case you're wondering, women do hot shit like this all the time when you're not around. Pillow fights in our panties, lurid comparisons of our breasts, hell, we even let each other squeeze our breasts. But, y'know, generally just when men aren't around. Right, ladies? And though most of us won't admit it, there's definitely something fascinating about breasts.

Continuing. A few months later, I had completely forgotten about the incident mentioned above. What's worse is that I had completely forgotten that I had topless pictures of two of my female friends lurking somewhere on my computer. My sister came to visit, and within five minutes of using my computer she manage to stumble upon them, then rolled her eyes at my explanation of why I had them.

Normally, this wouldn't be so bad, but I was a late bloomer and hadn't had a boyfriend yet. Plus I'm not attracted to Johnny Depp, so my Hetero License was confiscated a few years back. Of course for the next few months, my mother kept mentioning how "even though your father says rude things about jews and blacks and gays, it doesn't mean he won't love you for whatever you are." Thanks, mom. Straight though.

Even though I've racked up a few men by now, my generally flippant attitude towards relationships means that I still get the occasional reminder that my parents will love me "no matter what."

Anyway, that's how boobs ruined my credibility as a lover of men.

Stupid perfect breasts...
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 0:45, 16 replies)
Magiceyes post below just reminded me....
It was my best friends hen night, just over 2 years ago. Her soon to be sister in law had arranged a hen night that consisted of aunties and grannies in the local drinking sherry. She was devestated. With a week to go until the weddding I decided that a proper hen night shall be had!

I had so little time to make arrangements, so I invited all our girlfriends over to hers, made lots of silly yet fun drinking type games, with the odd truth or dare thrown in for good measure.
Food was several pounds worth of Tesco's finest snacks. And I spent the day making rude cakes.

I made boobies out of muffins, flesh coloured icing and halved glace cherries, which, frankly looked like a child had made them. But the penis cakes! Masterpieces. They were 2 muffind, with an upright swiss roll, liquorice laces for pubes, veins, and icing sugar mixed with water for, well, you know!

Now as it was a hen night, we'd sent the menfolk out to the pub. Things got little drunk and raucus at our party and the food was duly forgotton.

Until several extremely drunk and hungry men came home, spotted the cakes, and for some unfathomable reason, that they still can't explain to this day, began to devour the penis cakes! Not a breast was touched, or nibbled!

We had a great laugh at their expense, but come on guys, can you shed any light on this? 12 very drunk men, deciding against the breast cakes, in favor of the penis cakes.........
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 0:22, 2 replies)
How I could have quit smoking.
Six years ago, working part time in a city centre Subway, having a quick smoke break, when a coach hired for a hen party drives past.

Cue me getting flashed by 15+ chavvy drunk women.

I should have thrown away my ciggies right there and then. There is NO WAY I will ever, ever, ever have a better smoke. Ah well.
(, Sat 8 May 2010, 0:14, Reply)
Boob Cakes
This is a story about a breast. Not one of mine (I have two, and I'm very attached to them). This was more of an accidental breast.

I was probably about 14 or 15, and not very wise in the ways of the world (so naive and innocent--now I'm much older and naughtier, so things have changed for the better). I wanted to make a cake, so I picked a recipe for a Christmas tree cake with different sized layers stacked and frosting with green icing to look like a tree. The only problem was, I missed the part in the recipe where it said to double the recipe. The cake turned out flatter than it should have been. That's okay, I could just slap some frosting on it and it would still taste just fine.

So I baked the cake and stacked the layers on top of each other to make my very short tree cake and started to make the frosting. We didn't have any green food coloring. No problem, I'll just use white frosting and it will look like a lovely snow-covered tree. I blithely spread pale white frosting all over the cake, thinking about nothing but how good that cake was going to taste.

So the cake was finished and sitting on the counter, and my dad muttered something. With my usual quick thinking, it took me a few seconds to figure out what he said. "Is that a boob?" I looked at the cake, and yes, it was a boob. A giant, pale white breast, sitting on the kitchen counter. All it needed was a little pink frosting on the top.

Looking back, I think I missed this very obvious sign that my true calling was making erotic cakes. My life would have been very different if I had figured that out at the time, but now I've gone in a different direction. I could be like the woman who came up to me in a parking lot and told me she had something to show me in the back of her station wagon. I am dangerously curious sometimes, so of course I went with her, and the back of her station wagon was full of trays of erotic gingerbread cookies. I wonder if she's still selling anatomically-correct gingerbread men in shopping center parking lots.
(, Fri 7 May 2010, 23:54, 1 reply)
There used to be a poster about breast cancer in my doctor's surgery
when I was about ten. It showed rows and rows of naked breasts, all different shapes and sizes (from the "Balloons held up with invisible string" to the "Oh crap your sausage has escaped" varieties.) The slogan was something like, "We're all built differently, but we should all be checking for breast cancer lumps" (or possibly gristle, in the case of sausage lady... anyway.)

My mum decided that this would be a good time to inform me about femininity, and breasts, and so on. She starts off speaking in a quiet voice, but as she gets in to her topic, pointing at the various pictures in a kind of, "That's a 36AA cup, remember it well," manner, her voice gets louder. Every sick person in the room is suddenly not coughing, or avoiding the contagious person next to them, but joining in the conversation. Discussion about breast size, proper bra fittings, backache and so on were rife. Many a husband was asked for his opinion and then dismissed, many a child's ears were covered.

I, naturally, wanted to sink into my seat and die. As I was called for my appointment, an old lady who'd just claimed she used to be a GG cup before "gravity set in" smiled and wished me luck. All I could think of was those bloody sausage boobs.

Whoever invented that poster made me dread puberty like the plague. Thanks, whoever you are!

Length? About eighteen inches... almost resting in the lap.
(, Fri 7 May 2010, 23:32, Reply)
Is anyone else mildly amused
that is QOTW is rapidly changing from men drooling to us larger busted girls of b3ta getting down to a good girly chat about it? :P
(, Fri 7 May 2010, 23:13, 5 replies)
Couldn't help but post this

(, Fri 7 May 2010, 23:06, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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