“Save that awkward window of one adolescent year when the sides of my chest started to heave up and hurt real bad, I’ve always had a very loving relationship with my breasts. When I say my breasts, I really mean my boobs.

Breast is too clinical a word for something so punk, right?

From the teenage years of excitedly scrounging for sturdier, better padded bras to realising I won’t be dealing with additional padding in this lifetime; from my breath catching when a college boyfriend’s eyes visibly widened as he marvelled at their shape and softness (R and I are now pukka friends, and there’s no way I can relieve the memory in a conversation. So now it’s just a stray-day thought that leaves me smiling whenever it crosses my idle mind) to the first time I made the small but heart-flippin’ move of taking a partner’s hands and cupping them around my chest (not long ago, haan? Can’t imagine what took me so long. Could it be because men anyway start by reaching for them like Harry grabbing the portkey to Quidditch World Cup? Hehe), my boobs have always been my badge of confidence.

To the point that they are my first point of contact when I am pleasuring myself. Which in turn, makes me wonder how I’d respond to another woman’s boobs, should I ever encounter one (woman) in bed? It is the decade-long, positive interaction with my boobs (I’m 28) that form the crux of a question I often mull over–how curious is my ‘bi-curious’? I am, as you can tell, yet to find out. But if / when I do, I’d pay conscious heed to whether I field the same clumsy-cute portkey movements from women partners, or if we are more about glowing hickies and mindful kisses. I feel silly for wondering, but is there a gender to touch?

How differently would she touch my boobs than I remember R, S or S touching? I’ve never felt an immediate-immediate urge to find out, but it’s one of those things makes me curious when it crosses my mind. I think it’d be fun to find out.”

They said, “My favourite places to be are inside of books, or beside billis. Neither books nor cats scare/shame easy. That’s how I would always hope to be about my breasts, about all of my body, and my self.”

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