It is recycling day and I have work to do this afternoon... taking carriers out to the cans in the driveway. Sounds pretty mundane, doesn't it. But there's a problem, at least between my ears. I just removed the grey turtleneck I so enjoy wearing simply because the soft cotton conforms to the contours of my breasts, especially so when I'm wearing a brassiere as I am right now. I put on a dark blue turtleneck that still conforms to my breasts but doesn't reveal their fullness the way the grey turtleneck does. I don't want to have neighbors or my landlady experience the shock of seeing these voluptuous breasts on my chest. I may love them but I'm not certain these women would feel that way.
Although I'm not wearing the brassiere in the photo below... one I've shared before... you get the idea of what my breasts look like in that revealing turtleneck. I may change again after I've done the recycling, but then the dark blue cotton is remarkably soft, almost like I expect a negligee might feel... decisions, decision... When I'm wearing a brassiere it is very difficult keeping my hands off my breasts...
Later - And wouldn't you know... the handyman is here today so we struck up a conversation. I'm SO glad I changed clothes. It is a bit cool so I also was wearing a corduroy jacket. For anyone really paying attention, the fullness of my breasts was still visible beneath the corduroy with pockets formed over each mound. The front of the shirt was completely filled but the cloth was draped in a way that my breasts were not noticeable. I don't think this man would be any more thrilled by my breasts than my landlady or neighbor. This is the nature of our journey. Once we move beyond embarrassment and shame and begin appreciating our breasts, at least a part of us would enjoy other people liking them as well... but alas, that is not likely to happen, unless the person is already an intimate partner. How fun it would be to be making out with someone as their fingers played across my breasts... alas, it is not going to happen for me in this incarnation. But that is what fantasy is all about...