1) Braless milf gets mad
She was definitely a milf. Her reddish blonde hair was perfectly cut, but the wind had blown it around. Her designer sunglasses only partially hid her carefully-crafted makeup. But the best part was her boobs. They were massive mommy jugs, and just barely contained in her black tanktop.
I kept watching her as the game went on. She would jump up and cheer for her kid when he was at bat, and the effect was delicious. Her boobs would bounce around and sway back and forth. Every dad in attendance would hold his breath and fidget when she went into motion.
When her kid was called out, she got mad. She had a right to, considering the ump made a bad call. But storming onto the field was a little much. One of the other moms went out there to pull her out of the ump’s face, and things got crazy. The milf scratched at the other mom’s eyes, and then they started fighting. Somehow her tanktop got yanked down, and one pink-nippled breast popped out. It was the best kids’ baseball game I’ve ever been to!
“Ma’am, I’m just hear to fix your dishwasher,” I insisted.
“The only reason you wouldn’t be able to say whether you prefer real boobs over fake boobs is because you haven’t studied the topic thoroughly.” She unbuttoned yet another button on her sweater, and I swear I thought her massive jugs were going to pop right out. “Can you tell mine are real?” she asked me coyly. I nodded, and tried not to get hard. She pinched her nipples through the fabric, and they immediately stood at attention. “See how they jiggle?” She cupped them from underneath and shook them at me. “You don’t think they are too droopy, do you?” she asked me with a pout.
“Um, no way. I think they are perfect,” I reassured her.
3) Unhappy with her boobs
“I just don’t like them,” she admitted. She was my coworker, and had invited me over to watch a TV show. She seemed a little drunk, and was complaining about her boobs. She was in a white t-shirt, and clearly wasn’t wearing a bra. Her short shorts were way to short, and the way she was sitting with on the couch with her arm propped up on her knee made me very aware of her spread legs, her smooth, creamy white thighs.
“Your boobs are fine,” I told her. “What do you have to complain about?”
“They are too saggy,” she insisted. “The size is okay, but see how they droop off to the side?” She cupped her tits and squeezed them up and together in a breathtaking display of cleavage. “And my nipples are always hard. It’s embarrassing. Everybody stares.”
“People stare because you have great tits.”
She laughed. “Do you want some lemonade or not?” Her braless boobies jiggled as she chopped the lemons on the cutting board. Her white tanktop was thin and practically see-through.
“You look pretty dangerous. One minute you might be cutting lemons, the next minute you might chase after me with that giant knife.”
“Well you better mind your P’s and Q’s. If you give me any trouble and take this thing and cut your schlong off.”
“Schlong? Nobody calls it a schlong. Except for Lorena Bobbit. She probably called it a schlong right before she chopped it off and then took it and threw it out her car window as she escaped.”
“I’m just kidding you. I like your schlong way too much to ever cut it off. Why don’t you bring it over here, I have an idea.”
PS – I also updated the Alexandra Daddario post with some cleavage action.