My feelings about an important subject

Time for an original thought about a completely superficial infatuation of mine.

I love big boobs.

I don't know why. I'm obsessed. Possessed, if you will.

I've had mixed feelings about big boobs for some of my adult life.

When I was younger, in my late teens, I was infatuated with thin girls. Not these deathly anorexic model types we see commonly now, but definitely thinner than average. My prom date was 6'1" and weighed about 125lbs. I could easily pick her up and twirl her around, which seemed strange because I'm only 5'10". That's thin. Then I dated a girl who was 5'9" and weighed about 115lbs. She was one of those girls who picked at her food when we went out to eat, and we'd always eat somewhere expensive because only the best suited her. Oh yeah, and with her being tiny and both of us being virgins, the sex left a lot to be desired. Yeah well, that didn't last too long.

But then I went ahead and asked out another too-thin woman. She had a lot of security issues and we dated for a month before I finally felt comfortable tearing off her clothes and making ravenous love to her. She turned out to be an insatiable lover, like someone starved for a sensual touch. As we dated, she started gaining weight, at least fifteen pounds (and at 5'2", that's significant). Much later, I found out that prior to our relationship she suffered from severe bulimia, and apparently security she was drawing from our relationship basically cured it.

Part of that may have been that she was gaining weight in all the right places. When we first started having sex, I became aware of just how thin she was--I could see and feel her ribs, her legs and arms were bony, her breasts were small and flat and she had a pallid, unhealthy complexion. But over the span of about two months, her breasts and ass filled out. She had to buy new bras and her panties were no longer pulling up over her ass (which now looked to me like a gorgeous peach, and I told her so). I was so happy that our relationship was making her healthier.

I'm not about to pretend I wasn't enjoying her new-found voluptuousness. I squeezed and licked her tits with vigor, and she got off on it to the point of having orgasms just off breast-play. I didn't even know that could happen (of course, it probably helped that I would grind her pussy a bit while I did it, but honestly, most of it was just stimulating her tits). We'd fuck in countless positions, but inevitably we'd end up with one of us on top, me pumping her insatiably and absolutely devouring her breasts until she came violently.

Good times.

Fast-forward to today. I am no longer with that woman, but have found, to my amazement, a woman with soft, round, even more sensitive tits who simultaneously is a much better, less selfish lover than that woman. She knows I'm breast-obsessed, and she loves it (I'll cop a squeeze at the art museum if it pleases me). And our love-making is divine. I am consistently aroused whenever I see her big, round, naked breasts and I love just squeezing them.

It's like a psychosis. If a woman has big breasts, I'm like her plaything (Well, maybe that's overstating it... or maybe it's not). And I can't explain it. I wasn't over- or under-breastfed. I don't have an uncontrollable desire to squeeze and suck just anything. But breasts... they just do it for me, okay?!

And that's what I have to say on this important subject matter.