What is it about women and boob jobs?
Listen ladies, guys don’t give one shit about the size and shape of your breasts. We LOOOOOOVE boobs! We love big ones and small ones. We love perky or lazy boobs. We love tanned or milky white boobs. We love big "nips" or tiny ones. We love pierced boobs or not.
Every boob is AMAZING to us guys. The size, color or shape doesn’t matter at all. All that matters is if you will show them to us and let us play with them. Seriously, that is all ANY guy wants.
So why do most women want boob jobs?
There are only two reasons I can see for a woman to get a boob job. If they are so heavy that they hurt your back you can have them reduced. Or, if (god forbid) you lose them to cancer then you can have them rebuilt. But other than that I can see no reason to ever have a boob job of any kind.
I sort of think women want boob jobs to impress other women. I mean let’s get serious for a moment. You gals dress to impress other women. You impress guys just by showing up. This is why I believe that women get boob jobs for other women.
[You are all lesbians, right?]
So hear me clear, guys like your boobs and you don’t need to change them.
Now . . . .
When you get boob jobs, why then are you so anxious to show them to us and let us play with them?
Listen ladies, guys don’t give one shit about the size and shape of your breasts. We LOOOOOOVE boobs! We love big ones and small ones. We love perky or lazy boobs. We love tanned or milky white boobs. We love big "nips" or tiny ones. We love pierced boobs or not.
Every boob is AMAZING to us guys. The size, color or shape doesn’t matter at all. All that matters is if you will show them to us and let us play with them. Seriously, that is all ANY guy wants.
So why do most women want boob jobs?
There are only two reasons I can see for a woman to get a boob job. If they are so heavy that they hurt your back you can have them reduced. Or, if (god forbid) you lose them to cancer then you can have them rebuilt. But other than that I can see no reason to ever have a boob job of any kind.
I sort of think women want boob jobs to impress other women. I mean let’s get serious for a moment. You gals dress to impress other women. You impress guys just by showing up. This is why I believe that women get boob jobs for other women.
[You are all lesbians, right?]
So hear me clear, guys like your boobs and you don’t need to change them.
Now . . . .
When you get boob jobs, why then are you so anxious to show them to us and let us play with them?
I don’t get it at all. We like the boobs with which you were born. Yet we have to beg, slave, and go broke to see them and much less ever play with them. But the moment you get them augmented you suddenly want all of us to see them and touch them.
This weekend I am at a party with my COOL cousins. Well, the female is my cousin but her husband and I get along great so I include him as family. She is an absolutely beautiful lady with amazing breasts. She has the perfect figure according to your "girly" magazines. And her breasts were very ample.
[Geez, I feel like I am going to hell for talking about my cousin’s breasts.]
Apparently she decided a month or so ago that she wanted BIGGER breasts. So she got a boob job. I see her at the party, not knowing that she has been modified. And no, I didn’t know about her augmentation or notice her breasts. She is my cousin.
As usual, when I saw her we came together for a welcome hug and a peck on the cheek. As I let go to say one of the typical lines like, "it’s good to see you again"; she stops me and asks if her boobs felt bigger. At that moment I have no idea why she asks me that question, and I figure it’s one of our inside jokes that perhaps I had forgotten.
But I don’t look at her boobs!
Then she presses the issue further. She chides me to look at them. She is wearing a low cut sundress, so to appease her I glance down at her cleavage. I am still unaware of the background story.
This weekend I am at a party with my COOL cousins. Well, the female is my cousin but her husband and I get along great so I include him as family. She is an absolutely beautiful lady with amazing breasts. She has the perfect figure according to your "girly" magazines. And her breasts were very ample.
[Geez, I feel like I am going to hell for talking about my cousin’s breasts.]
Apparently she decided a month or so ago that she wanted BIGGER breasts. So she got a boob job. I see her at the party, not knowing that she has been modified. And no, I didn’t know about her augmentation or notice her breasts. She is my cousin.
As usual, when I saw her we came together for a welcome hug and a peck on the cheek. As I let go to say one of the typical lines like, "it’s good to see you again"; she stops me and asks if her boobs felt bigger. At that moment I have no idea why she asks me that question, and I figure it’s one of our inside jokes that perhaps I had forgotten.
But I don’t look at her boobs!
Then she presses the issue further. She chides me to look at them. She is wearing a low cut sundress, so to appease her I glance down at her cleavage. I am still unaware of the background story.
Apparently my non-interested attitude frustrated her a bit. So she informs me she had a boob job and wants my opinion.
I am now very uncomfortable. The party is in a large back yard out in a very rural area. It is nighttime, and there are only a few dim lights. And then I realize that we are alone in the yard. This scenario is not the type of a scenario you want to be in with your cousin.
She then says, "I want you to see them"; and she starts to slip off the top of her sundress. I grab her arms and stop her cold, explaining very diligently that I DO NOT want to see her boobs. She smiles as if she understands and I release my grip on her. As I take a comforting breath, her dress falls to her waist and there are two of the most amazing breasts I have ever seen.
Yup, I looked. But it was honestly an accident. And I immediately turned completely around and demanded that she put her clothes back on.
NOPE, she has no intention of dressing yet. You see, now she wants me to feel them too. I start to walk away and she grabs me. She insists that I need to seriously look at them, and feel them, and let her know what I think.
[Jumpin’ Jupiter Batman!]
I quickly devise the perfect speech in my head to show her how silly this whole ordeal is to me. But before I can put my thoughts into words, she grabs my hand and places in on her bare breast. I immediately pull my hand back.
She yells at me! She says she wants me to massage it and tell her if it feels like a real breast. I again voice my disapproval.
She grabs both hands and places both my hands on her bare breasts. You are probably thinking that a big guy like me could easily fight off a slender female. But the only way I know how to make someone let go is to hurt them; and I can’t hurt her. So I again voice my displeasure while fighting her not to move my hands around on her breast.
[Argh!]
So here I sit today trying to justify to my god why I massaged my cousin’s tits as per her instructions, fingered her nipples, and told her they were the best breasts I’ve ever felt.
I am sooooo going to hell!
I am now very uncomfortable. The party is in a large back yard out in a very rural area. It is nighttime, and there are only a few dim lights. And then I realize that we are alone in the yard. This scenario is not the type of a scenario you want to be in with your cousin.
She then says, "I want you to see them"; and she starts to slip off the top of her sundress. I grab her arms and stop her cold, explaining very diligently that I DO NOT want to see her boobs. She smiles as if she understands and I release my grip on her. As I take a comforting breath, her dress falls to her waist and there are two of the most amazing breasts I have ever seen.
Yup, I looked. But it was honestly an accident. And I immediately turned completely around and demanded that she put her clothes back on.
NOPE, she has no intention of dressing yet. You see, now she wants me to feel them too. I start to walk away and she grabs me. She insists that I need to seriously look at them, and feel them, and let her know what I think.
[Jumpin’ Jupiter Batman!]
I quickly devise the perfect speech in my head to show her how silly this whole ordeal is to me. But before I can put my thoughts into words, she grabs my hand and places in on her bare breast. I immediately pull my hand back.
She yells at me! She says she wants me to massage it and tell her if it feels like a real breast. I again voice my disapproval.
She grabs both hands and places both my hands on her bare breasts. You are probably thinking that a big guy like me could easily fight off a slender female. But the only way I know how to make someone let go is to hurt them; and I can’t hurt her. So I again voice my displeasure while fighting her not to move my hands around on her breast.
[Argh!]
So here I sit today trying to justify to my god why I massaged my cousin’s tits as per her instructions, fingered her nipples, and told her they were the best breasts I’ve ever felt.
I am sooooo going to hell!
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