One of our readers named Michaela submitted this braless story. I hope you enjoy it!
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Four months of saving every penny, working extra shifts, and running on no sleep, it all led up to this night. To this silky and skin-tight dress with a plunging neckline threatening to expose her to the world.

Michaela was ready to make a name for herself. It was the biggest night in the marketing world, a ceremony of the Boston’s most elite, and she had somehow won herself the role of her company’s representative.

For 6 years she had played hardball with the boys, clawing her way up the ladder, and tonight in that dress she was going to show them who she really was. Dateless maybe, but there are always sacrifices on the road to greatness.

The dress fit like a glove, hugging the curves of her body with fiery red silk. She had to go braless, which made her feel liberated, and as she stepped down from the limo and out into the blustery November night, her confidence was at its peak. She was a man-eater, taking no prisoner as she strolled along the entrance way. This was her night, or at least she thought until she felt a hand on the small of her back.

Jumping a bit she whipped her head around to see the arrogant smirk that belonged to Boston’s most eligible bachelor himself, Ian Garcia. She gasped slightly when his eyes, emerald green like she has never seen before, locked hers. He was perfect, from his chiseled jawline to his Ferragamo shoes. “Hey Mick,” he said just above a whisper. She felt the hair on her arms stand up as the warmth of his breathe cascaded down the nape of her neck. This was exactly what wasn’t supposed to happen tonight. Michaela had avoided this moment for 7 years, since the last night of grad school and the last time she heard his voice. Damn, that voice. “Ian, how are you,” she asked, trying to sound unattached. Play it cool girl, she urged herself, don’t let him see you squirm. “Me? I’m good, but that’s mostly because I’m looking at one of my favorite parts of you” he replied with a snicker, nudging his eyes towards her chest. The combination of wind and movement had pushed the edge of the deep plunge over, exposing the bud of her nipple for anyone to see. No, no, no she thought as she frantically adjusted the dress. Michaela’s face flushed to the color of her dress, and her mind was racing with plans for a quick escape from this mortifying situation. “Don’t be embarrassed” his hand inching a bit lower down her back, “you look sexy as all hell.”

Ian was a drug she had broken the habit from a million times. In Highschool, with his letterman jacket sneaking through her bedroom window, to college nights bent over the bathroom sink at their favorite dive bar. It was never a relationship, there were never dates or meeting the family, but there were nights of mind-blowing passion, lips sucking skin in a post-study drunken haze. Every detail was washing over Michaela, sending blood racing down to parts of her she planned to keep far away from him. No matter how many times she had tried to get away, she always ran back to him like a needle to a vein. Until 7 years ago, a night just like this one, when she told him she wanted more. He didn’t call her again. Years of learning every single inch of each other’s bodies, and then nothing.

“Thanks for the heads up, it was nice to see you, but I have to get inside.” She regretted her word choice immediately.

“Ya Mick, me too.” His lips were inches from her ear and she couldn’t fight the shiver that shot down her spine.

“This isn’t happening” the words barely making it out of her mouth before gasping for air.

“I think you forget where this thing ended. You ghosted me, darling, you don’t get to go inside anything but that building right there to find your own seat, far away from me.” She had turned around and started towards the door before he had the chance to respond.

The night was just as spectacular as she imagined. Over the top décor, rich executives throwing their money around like confetti, and men lining up to network with Michaela. She felt like a queen as she plowed through the line, with welcoming hellos and business cards flying from every direction. The dress combined with her impressive resume and confident demeanor was winning the night entirely. When she was finally able to break away for a moment, she sat down and threw back her entire glass of Pino Grigio, and immediately Continue reading Braless Misadventures →

Although it’s been a while, I occasionally have guest posters. In this case, Barbara has submitted a lengthy story that seemed somewhat appropriate for the site. I hope you enjoy!
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Exactly two months after my mother’s death I found the locket she gave me on my eighteenth birthday. A trinket that has been lost for eight months. I misplaced it on the day I started my second year in college and gave up searching for it after two months.
But now, as I sit on the floor of my college dorm room, I burst into tears holding the locket between shaking fingers as the memories flood my mind and it feels like a punch to the gut.

“Your mother has terminal breast cancer. It is very unlikely that she will recover, she should get her affairs in order,” the Doctor puts a sympathetic hand on my shoulder before leaving the room.
I look towards my mom’s sleeping form, the tubes and the machines hurting me deeply. It’s very hard to look at the woman who gave you life as she is losing her own. It’s taking all of my will power not to burst into tears and scream about how unfair the whole situation is. I just can’t figure it out; how could she be healthy as a horse and then all of a sudden on her death bed?
It’s so messed up.

I sniffle after a long cry, wipe the tears from my face and fasten the locket around my neck. I always think my grief has subsided until I’m reminded of her, then I feel empty again. It’s been a long time since I genuinely smiled or laughed so hard my muscles hurt. I have been feeling so lost and I don’t know when I’ll find myself again, but I’m hoping it is soon because depression is exhausting.
I wash my face in the bathroom sink and inhale deeply a few times before returning to my bed to do some studying. I have a test in two classes this week and a falling math grade to pull up.
However, it isn’t long after I crack open my textbook that my roommate and best friend of eight years comes running into the room, huffing and puffing.

The blonde’s normally immaculate appearance is in disarray and I can see splotchy red marks on her neck. Her shirt is inside out and backwards and she is carrying her heels.
Someone was visiting the fraternity this afternoon, I snicker to myself.

“How was your day?” I ask her, closing my textbook and swinging my legs over the edge of my bed.
She sets her shoes down in the corner. “I have to tell you something, I just don’t want you to think poorly of me for bringing it up,”
I look into her slanted brown eyes, wide with worry and excitement. “Go on,”

“I know you have been sad since your mom passed away,” she sits down next to me and grabs my hands. “And I think you should do something important to honor her memory, something to raise awareness for breast cancer and those who don’t win the fight against it,”
I desperately try not to let the heartbreak show. The crumbling feeling in the pit of my stomach makes me want to vomit. This topic is so touchy…
But, regardless, I encourage her to continue. “Like what?”

“There is this challenge going around campus, and the internet, called the Bra-less experience. Women go a week without their bra, spreading awareness online and in their everyday lives, plus there is a donation page to link to online,” she smiles at me, unsure.
I look at her, thinking deeply about the challenge. Part of me wants to say no because it won’t bring my mom back, but part of me wants to say yes because I want to help raise money for research. I have been feeling lost and helpless about this whole situation, and maybe doing a sort of charity work will help me feel better. Continue reading Braless Experience →

Note: this is a post that was guest-written by Christy.

When I stepped out of the Uber car and swung my purse onto my shoulder, the guy standing on the sidewalk having a smoke immediately said “Oh, my…” with his eyes trained on my chest.

Five minutes into my braless experiment, and I’m already feeling extremely self-conscious.

I was wearing a filmy blouse material, with a short skirt and high heels. The point was to de-emphasize my boobs, drawing attention to my legs. Because I had my natural c-cups unfettered today, I wanted to see how it felt to spend all day without a bra.

Let me tell you: it feels great. It’s the height of summer here, and the last thing I want is a bra making me sweat. The straps dig into my shoulders and my back. The underwire pinches and pokes me. And sometimes the bra material rubs my nipples raw if it’s too lacy or too loose.

Besides the comfort, it really seems the rage. All the celebs are doing it. And my friends, who admittedly have smaller boobs than I do, claim it’s awesome.

“Are you wearing a bra?” my friend Audrey asked me, first thing, when I met her at the coffee shop.

“No, can you tell?”

“Yep,” she answered. “I can totally see your nipples.”

“No you can’t!” I refuted. Again, I had chosen a blouse that I thought hid the fact pretty well. I headed to the coffee shop’s bathroom to give my nipples a thorough inspection.

Mid-morning, my co-worker Mike hiked an eyebrow and said, “The bouncing Bolshevik Bears today?”

“Pardon?” I asked.

“Your boobs,” he pointed, unabashedly. “You seem to have sprung them free. And they are bouncing all over the place when you walk.”

“Oh god, can you tell?” I asked, horrified, as I wrapped an arm around my girls.

Like I said, I’m a C-cup. I really can’t imagine anyone with boobs bigger than mine doing this. Some women do this every single day, despite bouncing around D-cups (or larger).

I wouldn’t want to go braless on a first date. Too self-conscious. I wouldn’t want to do this on a job interview. Surely they would notice. I wouldn’t want to do this when going to visit family. Can’t hide it.

Here’s when it would be awesome: when traveling via plane! You know how us girls are always breaking out the yoga pants and the soft t-shirts when we head to the airport? We want to be comfortable, and we want to be able to sleep/nap. Braless definitely equals comfort and naps.

Maybe just because it was new, I was very aware of my boobs, and kept checking myself out every chance I got. Quick pee in the bathroom? Check out my boobies in the mirror. Nobody around when I’m sitting in my cubicle at work? Play with my nips for a second and feel them harden up. Easy access! I kind of like that part.