
“I never hated my breasts although I have always wanted them to be bigger by a size or two. Maybe it was the desire to attract boys when I
was young.
Even now I compare my breasts with other women. But I think I am satisfied with what I have. Most of this satisfaction has come from my girlfriend.
Since the day we have been dating, she’s been very fond of my breasts. She says they are the apt size and softness. I don’t agree with her but I say yes.
Whenever she gets the opportunity, she’ll hold them, kiss them, suck on them, bite them, play with them, give them hickeys or just give them some characters and decide to improvise a conversation between them which is never serious. She would always ask me to wear some particular bras when she’s in mood for some hanky panky and she can snap open my bra in a moment (I sound like her fan here but that’s true and I always look at her in awe when she does that). Sometimes she would write things on my breasts like she loves me or something. Her face fits perfectly in my chest and she calls it her home. On most days, she would sleep only when she has buried her face in my breasts.
Once, she suckled on my nipples so hard that some of the tissue ruptured and it hurt for some days and she would cry over them and put some ointment on them whenever she found the time. Sometimes, she would just cup them and look at them as if she’s worshipping them.
I have grown more confident of my body after I met her. The love she fills in me is what I am thankful for. She would make fun of my breasts sometimes by saying that there is no conventional cleavage. And I have grown fine with the fact. It’s fine that I don’t have a definitive cleavage. It’s fine that I am somewhere between a C and D cup. They are a part of me and I embrace them with all the love I have and all of the love my girlfriend instills in me.”