I’ve always wondered what it’s like to have really big boobs, the kind Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield had.
A sweater girl, as they were called in the 40s and 50s. One who filled hers out like nobody’s business.
I’m built more like an ironing board, however, do have other assets so, it’s not as if I’m asking Santa for knockers, which nowadays he could produce fairly easily, well at least the name of a good plastic surgeon, hopefully with a groupon.
You can always tell who bought theirs since they’re featured like trophies fastened to your chest.
The girl who’s had them all along, keeps them under wraps, vavavooming only for special occasions.
I will say, they never have to worry about getting a Saturday night date, or one Sunday through Friday either. And to quote my quip of a mother, men walk backwards to get a better look.
Now that I think about it more, would you excuse me?
Silliness refreshes a girl.