Ya’ll know I have a special place in my heart for amateurs. Heynow, I don’t discriminate. I give plenty of love to the Hollywoood starlets, partly because they are in the media so often and shoved in our faces to the point where its pervasive. But I always come back to the gals next door, the shoppers, the commuters, the trailerpark brides.
Sorry to be such a pervert (not really), but the perpetually braless wife drives me nutso. You’ve seen them at the store maybe, or walking down the street. What are they thinking? Are they lonely, horny, starved for attention? Let me rephrase that as a statement rather than a question.
Now the younger single gals let it all hang out too. And I love em for it. But there’s something about the naughtiness of the wife that turns my cooker up a notch.
I was at the airport the other day, and I parked in one of those long-term lots that’s just past Timbuktu. You know, where you have to walk ten minutes to the nearest kiosk and then ride a bus for fifteen minutes to the terminal. The bus was packed with people. I was sitting down, and this lady in a business suit was standing up. Let me really lay this description out for you so we can get the full extent of the perverted/psycho/stalker vibe.
She was wearing a pantsuit with a dress jacket over a blouse. But the bus driver was driving like his hair was on fire and his ass was catching, so the bus was crashing over potholes and passengers were all but getting tossed out the windows. So this lady had dropped her carry-on on the floor between her feet, and she was holding on to the upper handrail with all her might. The jacket she was wearing was hanging open, and her ponderous d-cup boobies were shoving that blouse around like two pigs in a poke. She couldn’t have been wearing a bra the way those things were jiggling around.
She had on a wedding band and a diamond, clearly married. Now why would a wife on a business trip go braless? Did she have a long, tiring day of travel, and slip into the tiny, stinky airplane bathroom and unsnap her bra to shove it into her carry-on? Come walking back down the aisle with the bra folded up in her pants pocket and the underwire peeking out. Ahhhh, finally, some relief. The lace had been itching her, and the wire had been poking her, and her boobs were just squeezed wrong all day.
And when she gets home, is her husband there and does he notice: D-cups and no bra? I sure would.
Did other dudes on the bus notice? Surely. How about other gals? In my experience, girls are preternaturally aware of other girls’ boobies. And those married hoochie-mamas that don’t wear bras really tick off the uptight brawearers.