Saturday, July 31, 2010

The whence and wherefore of my breast obsession...

To begin, indulge me a qualification, a caveat if you will, I love women. And nothing here is intended to offend. I make no apologies for my sexual antics and am unabashed in my desire to bed women—especially those of the well endowed variety.


As mentioned in my profile, I have rediscovered my libido and exult in my ability at this stage in my life to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh. I know full well that I will eventually and probably fairly soon return to a more conventional lifestyle and apply myself to the more civil pursuits of career, money and so forth in anticipation of my eventual retirement.

For now…let the games begin!

Well, as to the whence and wherefore of my obsessions with female breasts.

Let me say right off that I enjoy my fetish, yet like most such obsessions, this focus carries a downside—as Jung might say, that which we seek to possess, possesses us until we attain it, which is rare…thus, we spend our lives searching and obsessing and thus being owned by the object of our desire…whether the Holy Grail, the Golden Fleece, the fountain of youth, the gold of El Dorado or, in my case, large breasted women…lol.

Not long ago, and this is not by any means the first time, a friend of mine and I were enjoying an after work adult beverage at one of our local establishments in mid-town Houston. The bar was filled with the usual cast of neck-tied, white-shirted twenty and thirty-something professionals, and a wide array of women. My buddy, Larry, once more observed my predilection for the big busted ladies. Double D is his nickname for me, in reference both to my initials and to my weakness—a neat, crisp double entendre.

He asked how I thought I had come to be so obsessed with breasts.

I’ve thought about that over the years. The biological and I suppose the anthropological reasons are fairly easy to discern. But I know lots of guys who, while they would never turn down a big breasted woman and leer with the best of us when one bounds into the room, they actually prefer a more compact presence, slender, some times even Twiggy thin.

Freud would say I was never truly weaned. That I was never able to develop beyond a purely base approach to women and am always striving to return to the comfort, the physical security of the breast. Hmm.

Jung would refer to the archetypal shape of the breast and that for me the fertility goddess represents my own subconscious, perhaps pre-conscious or unconscious, desire for immortality…to carry on. Hmm.

But for me, in a more practical, experiential way, my launch into the never ending search for the big breasted female form is clearly marked in time, in my own personal history. I can name the day and the woman and the circumstances with great clarity. My world turned on that day.

My friend Larry asked when was the first time I actually “slept with a big tittied woman.”

We didn’t sleep I told him

The summer between my sophomore and junior years, I was sixteen. I had started high school a few months younger than my classmates. Three of my friends and I started a lawn/pool service for the summer and we did pretty well. We called ourselves the 4 Squared Lawn and Pool Service because, frankly, we were all academically gifted, but on the athletic side we left much to be desired.

However, after a month of this, we were all quite tanned, muscled up and if not buff at least beyond the pale, bony, stumbling boys of old.

At the time I was dating a vibrant, intelligent and when naked quite attractive classmate. She would be my first lover, a memorable one as it turns out, but, alas, not the subject of this story.

During that summer, the guys and I worked our lawn accounts together to save time. It was more cost effective to handle our pool accounts separately if we did not take care of the lawn at the particular location.

One of our first pool accounts was with a husband and wife who were close friends of my parents. They socialized quite often together, even taking weekend trips together. I had always had something of a crush on her—let me call her K—in a subtle reference to Franz Kafka—she turned out to be a maze for me.

There had been rumors about K and her husband, their marriage somewhat at risk. He was a paving contractor who specialized in state contracts. This mid-west state being a particularly corrupt one, he made a lot of money fast. My father, with political ambitions of his own, began to distance himself from K’s husband. But K and my mother maintained their regimen of weekly shopping trips and long lunches.

I took that pool account myself and for the first several trips to their house in the country I had the grounds and the pool to myself. Then, one hot, humid day it all changed.

The first time I went there when K was home, she was sporting a tight t-shirt and denim cut-offs. I knew she was busty, but the t-shirt and the loose fitting bra displayed a pillowy presence I had never seen before. The shorts were, well, short. Her ass cheeks squeezed out of them and the legs were mesmerizing. Her long, billowing black hair, wild curls and waves blew about her pretty thirty something face as she worked in a little flower garden she prized. We chatted a while before I began work on the pool and I think it was right then that the seed of thought was sprouted in her—she could not have failed to notice my total and complete and very juvenile response to her body, the heat of her presence. I’m sure she must have been flattered, maybe bemused is more like it.

The very next time I appeared, she was there as well. K had returned from some meeting…she sometimes worked in her husband’s office but because of the strain in their marriage, K was spending less time there. On this day however, she was wearing a wool skirt, white blouse, sans shoes. I worked the pool and when I was about to leave, she came out onto the patio with a couple of large glasses of lemonade. She handed one to me.

Well, I remember the top two, maybe three, buttons of her blouse being unbuttoned and the rolling, tanned terrain of her breasts showing through the wide Y of her blouse. I thought about that cleavage for several nights in a row during my teenage nocturnal fantasies.

In the interim, between that visit and the next, my high school girlfriend and I came across K, her husband and another couple at a restaurant. My girlfriend and I had a very tumultuous relationship. Both of us were very gifted students, and well regarded by our teachers. I was destined for politics and my girlfriend was determined to be along for the ride. She was brilliant, very pretty, very volatile and very exciting. We argued like little Hitlers on a terror, and then made love like the last couple on earth. Our relationship in our little town was taking on the proportions of a minor legend.

One of my friends, dating a close friend of hers, once told me—my friend she is either going to kill you in your sleep with a pair of scissors, or fuck you to death. In retrospect, I feel lucky to have survived…but at the time I was so horny I was willing to take the risk.

At any rate, in this restaurant, after we all had exchanged greetings, my girlfriend and I found a booth in the back and sat together on the same side. At some point during the evening, as K and her party were leaving, K comes over to us. K politely asks about my mom and dad and then she preens her breasts. I don’t remember exactly what she was wearing, but she stuck them out there, reached over, yes, ruffled my hair and told me to be a good boy, she’d see me next time I took care of her pool.

Well, girl friend was a bit non-plussed to say the least. We had an evening of our usual, albeit condensed, cycle of intense arguing, and equally intense fucking.

The days between then and my next visit dragged on in the infernal summer heat. I forgot things. I became moody. I was sullen. Then I was euphoric. Then, I was miserable.

The day came and I pulled my pickup truck up to the side of the house, grabbed my tools of the trade, chemicals and made my way to the back, half hoping she wasn’t home I was so afraid. And then, to my horror, she wasn’t there. I honked my horn and I knocked on the door, silence. I kept a few items stored in the tool sheds, garages of some of my customers, things they would buy directly and then ask me to use.

Well, when I went into the back building, a tool shed where K’s husband stored his four wheeler, fishing boat and some of the pool supplies, I heard her come out the patio door.

From where I was, I could look through a four paned window. She was incredible looking in her white bikini that accentuated her tan. She could easily see the front of my truck and the pool net I had left on the tarmac. She knew I was somewhere on the grounds.

I watched her, totally transfixed by that wonderful body. She was more than twice my age and this of course added to my excitement—a real woman. K took her time with her particular ministrations, applying tanning lotion, sipping her drink, all the time her ample bosom bobbing and bubbling up in the bikini top. I was rock hard.

I was surprised to find that I was stroking myself at the sight and when she stood up to spread a beach towel on the lounge chair; I had a great 30 degree angle from the back. I could see her right breast hanging down and her bottom aimed my way. I nearly lost control.

Finally, I decided I had to do something. I couldn’t stay in the increasingly hot garage. I came through the door, calling out hello, trying to hide my evident arousal.

I went about tending to the pool, all the time casting furtive glances her way. I remember those delicious looking breasts graded a bit to the sides as she lay on her back. Then, in a breathtaking sequence she sat up, lowered the back of the lounge and spread out on her back.

Now, most of you have read my oft repeated theory that while not all buttmen are breastmen, all breastmen ARE buttmen. K went on all fours for a moment, smoothing out the blanket and I was awestruck, standing there across the pool from her. I prayed for spillage.

Well, she caught me. And I will never forget her little coquettish wave. I know I must have looked downright stupid in lust—because she laughed and asked if I was okay.

A while later, she gave me a glass of her pink lemonade and I sipped it, trying very, very hard not to look at her glorious breasts, bulging up and out in that top. She donned a little camisole type wrap, but K had left it open.

For the next several dates with my high school girlfriend, our sex was raucous and wild. I couldn’t help fantasizing about K while I was with L…but L never complained, but was in fact a bit baffled as to the change in pace and increased ardor.

But I was miserable. I dreamed about K, I fantasized about her, I wanted her.

One afternoon, I came in from work for lunch and saw her car parked in our driveway. K and my mom were just leaving to go out for lunch. K. asked me if I might be able to clear my schedule on the following Saturday to help her expand her flower garden. She said she would pay me well.

Well, that Friday afternoon, I loaded up my truck with the tools I thought I might need, although K’s husband keep a pretty well stocked garage. That evening, before I left to pickup L for our usual Friday night date, I heard my dad tell my mother that K’s husband was out of town, on a trip to the state capitol, presenting a new bid on a stretch of highway.

I couldn’t sleep. Early the next morning I make my way to K’s house. They had a very nice, almost palatial home pretty far out in the county. I pulled up the side of the house, as usual and began unloading my shovel, hoe and so forth. She came out from behind the house, greeted me and asked me in for coffee.

K was wearing this cute little sundress, flip-flops and had her hair tied up in a pony tail, with just a hint of makeup. And, it only took a couple of movements of hers for me see she was braless. With our cups in hand, we walked outside to survey the work ahead. K had sketched out a plan and we talked about what she might need to buy from the hardware store, while I broke ground.

As we are walking back into the house, it suddenly dawned on me, and I remember this realization like a slow wave of heat washing over me, we were going to fuck. I know K flirted with me. I know I fantasized about her and masturbated to the thought of having her to myself. But as she moved through the doorway into the kitchen I just knew we were not going to do any gardening that day.

Well, I pour out more coffee for the two of us and as she takes her cup, her hands briefly brush over mine and I was lost.

Right before that very first kiss that would send me on a lifelong search for women with large breasts, right before her rich lips pressed against mine, she said, whispered, huskily, no one must ever know.

And I remember so very well, I can smell the coconut scent of her shampoo and I can see them—as she pulled the sundress over her head, hefting up her breasts as she did so—how they sprung free and plopped down in that lush titty tumble. I still sometimes groan as I did those lo many years ago to that memory.

She stripped me down there in the kitchen, knelt down and gave me a mind blowing blowjob, cupping my balls in her hand, tongue-tickling me, sucking and kissing me. We went into the bedroom and didn’t leave for a couple of hours. We fucked like proverbial minks. Then, we spent a good part of the day naked in the pool or poolside. I still recall how nice it all was—taking her from behind, watching our action in the mirrors on the closet door, how her huge honey’s swung about, galloped even, when I—in my huffing and puffing, grunting and groaning lust—hammered at her gorgeous ass. I recall how nice it was with her riding me, her big titties hopping and flopping, sometimes grazing over me. I remember her turning me over on the bed, and again once on the patio, rubbing her big beauties all over me, from my feet, up my legs, over my ass and along my back—the rolling me over and doing the same, from feet to face.

And, of course, there was the titty fucking. She was one of those women who truly seemed to enjoy watching her man cum…and I did not disappoint her. K got me worked up and over the top so many times that day. I remember one of her sweet little jokes: oh honey, if I had you around here, imagine how much I’d save on batteries.

Thinking back on that torrid, wild affair, I am amazed at the risk I took so I could enjoy that big busted, healthy hipped, ample assed beauty. Her husband of questionable means—hell, I could have ended up in the grade of one of his roads. In that small town, my poor mother would have been truly humiliated. My father? I don’t know whether I would have preferred to face one of her husband’s bulldozers or my father.

My career would have ended before it began. And of K? Well, what she was doing was flat out illegal.

But no one discovered us. Not even my girlfriend L. In fact, years later at a high school reunion, a group of my old classmates and spouses went out drinking. I remember L’s husband, in his cups as we Irish say, sidled up to me, bleary eyed and said, so you’re the guy who taught my wife how to titty fuck. In truth, K taught me and I just handed on the lesson.

K and I kept going at it well into my senior year in high school. The summer between my graduation and college was particularly memorable as we were able to get away for days at a time.

I started college as a sophomore and was quickly engrossed in classes and newfound co-eds. Although my university wasn’t that far from my hometown, I tended to stay away from home for longer stretches as time went on and K became a more and more occasional experience.

I will, however, never forget her. She was an avid and eager lover, quite experienced and at once gentle and demanding in right measure. K taught me how to make love and how to fuck, and how to gauge a woman’s need for one over the other.

While my obsession with big breasted women is deeply seeded and it is unfair to blame—if that’s the right word—K for my fetish, she unlocked this passion for me and provided a great outlet. She helped me come of age—no pun intended.

I don’t, of course, have a photograph of her, but a few months ago I came across a picture of a splendid set that seem almost identical to K’s heavy hangers….it gives a good sense of what I enjoyed during my sixteenth summer.




Yes...K's were about that big...and just as beautifully shaped...

Friday, July 30, 2010

Rub a dub dub...two tits in a tub....

These large lovelies belong to Ashley...she is a cutie pie, no doubt about it...She has that girl next door look until she gets naked and starts working on her man..wow...


...sometimes, after working in the yard, mowing the lawn, trimming the hedges, all Dean wanted to do was come inside to cool off, drink a beer and then have a go at Ashley...well, Ashley always preferred for Dean to take a bath first...she found a clever way to intice him to do just that...

I really like watching this girl at play...as I mentioned above, she has a really down to earth look about her.  She isn't beautiful in the classical sense of the word...in fact, and here I mean no offense, but when fully clothed she comes across as your average little cutie...but when she gets naked, wow..gorgeous ass, lush legs and she has a little tummy...and those titties...oh my goodness...so soft looking, bouncy and pliant...what a delight to watch....


Sometimes...all she had to do was stand there....

I admit to having quiate a crush on the slim and stacked model Maria Swan/Jana Defi/Princessa.  While she has a sweet face that, depending on the pose, can offer a nice sexy, "come and get it" gaze, it is her body that is outstanding.  She has go-on-forever legs, slender arms, a nice tight tummy, a delicious looking bottome and of course outragously big G-cup titties...what's more...her breasts are so nicely shaped, with just the right amount sag...I have watched several of her video clips and the camera loves her...plus she passes the "see them from the bac" test sooo well...


Maria like to greet Dean home after his long day at work...sometimes, hiowever, right before he pulled into the driveay..she worried if he might be tired, or weary, or so distracted from his endeavors that he might not be...well, as eager to see her as she was to see him...

These big beauties bear comment...wow...I love that shot of her "outriggers."  The way they bloom down and out...what a splendid set...For a long time I had a cropped version of this photo showing only her titties as my desktop wallpaper...



...of course, az soon as he got out of his car and saw her....she could tell her concern about his, uh, eagerness to see her had be totally unwarranted...oh yes indeed...it was a good thing the patio was secluded...



It was a little game she played...first thing in the morning she would stand at Dean's side of the bed...just as he was waking up...



...she was never disappointed...

Oh my goodness...what a sweet set of titties...I never tire of looking at her...



...sometimes Maria could be very, very subtle in sending signals to Dean as to what she wanted...other times she was, oh, let's say...less subtle...

At present, I am without a bed buddy...sigh.  Sad, but true.  Maria's videos have helped me "get through" a number times in recent days...

Monday, July 26, 2010

Dean gets a new swing set...weeee!!!!

I've had this clip in my collection for a long time and forget who they belong to...but they are beautifull...


Yes...Dean confessed to his therapist..he had suffered from somthing of a deprived childhood...his parents had never bought him a swing set...his therapist scribbled in her notebook..."It seems that having been thus deprived of the archetypal experience throughout his childhood, Dean, in his adulthood, appears to be making up for lost time."


I can't wait for Summer to cum...

The following series is of the Bristish cutie Victoria Summers...I just received these compliments of Boob Mail.  I went on line to her site.  Wow.  http://www.victoriasummers.com/ The promo trailer is incredible.  As you can see from the photos below, she has a great set of what she touts as 34Hs...but that is of course the Brit measurements...still...her's are beautiful and in the video there are a few shots of her huge honeys dropping and hopping...hmmm...sorry, now I'm back...I was a bit distracted...lol.


...Dean had been very persistently pursuing Victoria for quite some time now...even though she thought he was cute and had heard that Dean was quite the sexual virtuoso..she nevertheless had thus far resisted Dean's advances...



However, truth be told...she found her resolve beginning to wane...she had said yes to three dates now...and each time, he seemed to advance a little further...



Her mother had warned her that what most men wanted was to just simply get into your pants...



Well...she had heard enough about Dean to know that was probably true of him as well...so, as they began their fourth date, she was determined not to let that happen...whew...she thought as entered her apartment alone at the end of the evening...that was close....



On the fifth date, Victoria knew that Dean would be even more determined to--in the words of her dear ole mum--get into her pants...so, she decided she would distract him with her other charms...



...amazingly, that seemed to work...but she was beginning to wonder what she was missing out on...since she had indeed heard soooo much about Dean's sexual prowess...



....but by the sixth date...her defenses totally fell away and her curiosity about Dean overwhelmed whatever reservations she might have had...that date didn't end until mid-afternoon the next day!!!



Oh...that Dean...she thought...why did I wait so long?  The seventh date lasted all weekend...



...by the eighth date...they had their tootbrushes permanently stationed at each other's apartments...Victoria thought once more about her mother's warning...but said to herself...oh Mum...if you only knew...

A bit more about Victoria...the video promo I mentioned at the top also provides a little sampling of her voice...I love a British accent from a woman...but those lush boobs and that adorable smile--a mix of mischief and sweetness...she definitely has made into to my top thirty...at least for today...lol

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Dean decides to stay bedridden...

A video segment of Bianca Bloom's udderly delicious looking tits...wow....


Dean woke up early Saturday morning thinking about all the things he had planned to do...mow the lawn, trim the hedges, clean out the gutters...he wanted to fire up his smoker and smoke a brisket that had been marinating overnight...he wanted to go the hardware store to price generators...but, it seemed Bianca had other plans for our hero....well, needless to say...Dean got a letter from the homeowner's association the next week, complaining about the ragged look of his lawn and hedges...and how leaves were showing over the edges of his rain gutters...

I think Bianca Bloom still has one of the finest sets of hooters on the planet...with their swing and sway, heft and hang they are just so delightful to watch...once she sets them in motion I can't stop staring...can't stop other things as well...

Kanami cums clean...

This series probably belongs to the Gravure Greats Collection as Kanami is a sweet young gravure model...still, in keeping with the Bustin' Out format, all we get to see in the following photos are her lovely, plush titties...oh, and her cute round rump...enjoy...


After each afternoon with Dean...Kanami found herself spent, exhauted but sated...awestruck even...her post coital daze would last for quite some time...



....but after a while of recupuperative bathing...sipping wine...she would recollect in her mind her ribald times with Dean...the passion, the heat, the desire, the exquisite moments of coitus...



....she smiled as the memory of the langquid moments they would share...basking in the post climactic glow....until one of them would rouse once more...and in turn, rouse the other....



....Kanami remembered all the attentions he gave to her breasts...with his hands, his mouth, his proud cock...how he would spend himself over and over in glorious shots from his handsome, always eager, always thrusting, always probing cock....



Even now...even though he had left her only an hour or so ago...Kanami longeed to offer them to him again...recalling that leer of his, his soft moan and groan of lust...how his manhood would grow again to life...how his need took over and Dean would take what he needed....



Then, with his lust momentarily assuaged...they would linger...catching their breath...looking over the spanse of her bosom and range of his release...



Well...as you might imagine...after several minutes of such erotic revery...Kanami would find herself heated with lust for her lover...only recently vacated from her chamber...



...yes, Kanami longed for his need of her...longed for his strong thrusts and eager kisses...



...until she found for herself some momentarily relief...gasping, amazed at her own libidious energy...and at how unrelenting it was....



poor Kanami...tempted call Dean on his cellphone and tell him ti immediately return..yet in such dire need of rest...she was in quite a quandry...



...and, of course, her breasts weren't the only part of her to which Dean paid such avid, determined attention...yes...she really needed a night away from Dean's sexual acrobatics.....



...but after a long, luxurious bath...another glass of wine and a rinse of warm water...Kanami knew what she would do soon as she had dried off....find her cellphone...

I have written elsewhere on this blog of my fascination bordering on fetish for the Japanese gravure models...I have never had the pleasure of being with a Japanese girl, busty or otherwise...but the whole hentai thing really works wonders for me...

Checkout http://tokyotopless.com/  it is quite worth the time if, like me, you like the little Asian girls with big breasts....

Photos of girls just hanging out...

The following photos are from the Bustin' Out collection...some of my favorite photos of boobies...


Sometimes, not often, but sometimes Dean would demure when she asked him for money for shoes, or a new dress...but on those rare occasions--while she knew it wasn't quite fair--all she had to do was...well, you get the picture...

I love this photo...big, bulbous, heavy hanging hooters...perky nipples...there they are...all out there...waiting for a pair of hands, a face or...?



She oh so wanted Dean to take her home...but Dean was having such a great time at the garden party...he didn't want to leave...until she dropped a hint or two...

I findy myself getting aroused every time I look at this photo...big ole wobblers...delicious...



Sometimes when Dean was feeling a bit down...she knew that all she had to do to perk him up was to give him a little hug....

I probably will not post too much explicit material on here, but I like this photo...I think these might belong to Samantha 38g...nice big whoppers...like all breastmen, I love a good titty fuck...and while I've enjoyed such with ladies with C-cups...there is nothing like a set of triple Ds or bigger to get the job done...just rocking up and down in between them, or let her set the pace...



Dean was always so full of energy...she never had trouble getting him up in the mornings....

Well...what can I say...just looking at them would be enough, but having her give you a hand with things would be even better....



Sometimes...she didn't even have to tell Dean what she wanted...he was sooo good at reading body language...

As I've written before....while not all buttmen are breastmen, I believe all breastmen ARE buttmen...what delight to grab hold of a set of healthy hips, or generous ass cheeks and go for a ride...this is a photo of Maria Moore, I think...



Her only complaint about being with Dean was that after a passionate night and morning...she would have to get dressed very, very quickly...covering herself, otherwise...if she was a little slow in putting on her bra...well, she knew she would be late for work...

Damn...tits that hang down almost to the belt line...wow....



Dean felt really, really lucky...she was the one girl who could offer him everything he wanted....and then some...

These hanger bangers are beautiful to behold, and no doubt wonderful to hold...one of my fellow breastmen tells me there are two ways to tell if they're big enough:  if you can see them around the sides when her back is turned...and when you can hide your hands beneath them...these pass the test on both accounts...




She was so excited in telling Dean about her day that she didn't notice that her dress top had slipped off her shoulder...but Dean thought she was so happy, so animated, in relating her day that he thought it would be rude to interrupt her...so he waited until after she had told her story...well after...

Can anyone say, "Pretty Titty"?




She pondered...they had been in the room for over an hour, and Dean had "gotten happy" three times and she was yet to lay down, wow, she marvelled, Dean really was a breastman...

While I like for a woman to start out with lengerie...I definitely prefer for them to get naked...but I think she looks really sexy with a little lace on...



Riki had overheard Dean telling one of his friends that he just couldn't keep his hands off her...well, she thought...that's not all Dean can't keep off her...

This is another one of my favorite photos...it actually comes from my Gravure Greats Collection...I can't help imagining what it would be like to mount her and slide in between those large lovelies...but then, what breastman wouldn't.....soft and pliant, and oh how they plump up...and note they do not pancake over her arms...these titties are still young and firm....