Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
I’m currently waiting for my date, Bryan, at this dimly lit, slightly too-loud bar, strategically wearing a top that says, “Yes, these are real, and yes, they require their own zip code,” because why hide the goods? Especially when I’m dealing with a titty connoisseur who specifically requested I wear something “supportive but revealing.” If there is one thing you need to know about me, it’s that I am not subtle.
Bryan finally walks in, and let me tell you, this guy doesn’t even bother with eye contact first! Which usually would be a giant red flag for me, but in his case, it’s more like a giant green, flashing signal advertising mutual appreciation for my, uh, “generous” proportions. I knew he was a dedicated breast man from our first phone call when he subtly (or perhaps not so subtly lol) kept dropping hints about “support systems” and his admiration for “natural architecture.” Seeing him now confirms every delightful, slightly unhinged rumor about his specific interests and the inevitable focus of our evening together.
Bryan Is A Breast Man
When we finally hug, I can literally feel that man vibrating as he attempts to navigate the complexity of saying hello without becoming entirely swallowed by my tits. He actually murmurs, “Wow, Cory, the description you gave me did not do them justice…they’re just so fucking magnificent,” which is exactly the level of flattering acknowledgment I live for from a dedicated titty enthusiast like him.
So, naturally, the date progresses through a series of tactical maneuvers designed entirely around getting his hands on me. We move to a booth, and he strategically places his arm along the back so he can occasionally touch my side boob. Honestly, I find it hilarious how intensely focused he is! He completely disregards my witty anecdotes whenever I make an effort to steer the conversation elsewhere. I kinda want to knock on his forehead and say “Helloooooo?” Hahaha!
Moving from the bar to my place felt less like a romantic change of venue and more like an emergency evacuation driven by Bryan’s desperate need to see my assets in the flesh. Which I totally get, trust me, because these things deserve to be appreciated outside of a public setting.
The second the door closes, it’s game over for small talk and conventional foreplay. He doesn’t even bother removing his jacket before he is fully committed to burying his face in my cleavage with a sound of profound satisfaction that rivals winning a grand prize lottery ticket.
I’m just standing there, laughing to myself, thinking, “Yep, Bryan, you found the motherlode! Enjoy the exploration, but please watch out for stray underwires, ’cause they bite.”
Cory 1-844-332-2639 ext 407
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