Author Topic: Breast Fetish?  (Read 1145 times)

Offline 42CSurprise!

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I posted six photos on the Photo section yesterday with three different brassieres.  My breasts seem much fuller and they both look and feel wonderful when I wear a brassiere.  I really am mesmerized.  My breasts feel every bit as delicious as those on girl friends I met along the way.  I recall witnessing my god daughter as a young child on her mother's lap.  She and I were having a conversation.  Her daughter was fixated on her mother's breasts and as we spoke she unbuttoned the front of her blouse.  My friend wasn't wearing a brassiere so when the girl spread the panels of the blouse those quite voluptuous breasts were exposed... breasts no doubt carrying milk the girl knew about.  But she didn't lean in to suckle, she kept turning her head, gazing at one breast and then the other.  Fortunately my friend was not concerned about me seeing her breasts so her daughter got exactly what she wanted.

Yes, many of us grew up nursing at breasts and that was doubtless a transformative experience.  I probably could have left that behind me had it not been for a sexual traumas I experienced that contributed to my putting on a brassiere for the first time when I was 12.  It belonged to a very voluptuous woman, a neighbor I'd been fixated on as juices of adolescence began to flow.  And now I wear my own brassiere filled with my very own breasts... and I am transported.  Diminished libido makes it less of an orgasmic experience but there still is an erotic dimension to it all.  Fetish?  Probably.  Autogynephilia?  Probably.  Problem? No.  This is the life of an octogenarian who lives alone with a drawer filled with brassieres... just one life... my own.

Offline gyne73

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Diminished libido makes it less of an orgasmic experience but there still is an erotic dimension to it all.  Fetish?  Probably.  Autogynephilia?  Probably.  Problem? No.  This is the life of an octogenarian who lives alone with a drawer filled with brassieres... just one life... my own.

I wore my first bra at my aunt's, my mother's sister. They were very different, physically and psychologically. My mother was the classic androgynous woman, red haired, freckles, almost no curves, tall and pretty. I was 12 at the time and I was her photocopy (at school they exchanged us for sisters, she was only 18 older than me and, at 30, she looked like a teenager).
My aunt was short, childless, brown and with big breasts (not enormous, but big on her frame).

I was fascinated by her, probably because they were very different I did not see her as a blood relative.
One day on a T.V. show there were some topless women (in Italy at the time it was allowed) dancing and cheering.

I was with my aunt and my uncle, my mother worked long time (my father did go away).

My aunt did not change channel and the day after she performed the same dance in front of me. Not topless, but almost, she grabbed her breasts and made some dance steps, making them juggle in her sweater. We were alone in home. She did not continue, but I was 12. In retrospect maybe this is not the right thing to do in front of a pre-teen, or maybe not, I was already on the way to it. I had already my own breasts since a few months, my peers had already teased me, I had already imagined to wear one, but I had no courage. Was it envy or desire to see those women cheering around, their breasts exposed? Maybe both.

Next day I wore one of her bras. And it felt GOOD. I felt contained, I felt embraced. It felt just for me.

Fetish? yes. Problem? at the time yes, I felt divided. 40 years later I am maybe more at peace. I know I will die with this question in mind.

Am I a "broken" man or a woman who has not had the courage to come out totally?

Maybe both, maybe none.

So what?



Offline 42CSurprise!

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...Am I a "broken" man or a woman who has not had the courage to come out totally?

Maybe both, maybe none.

So what?
These are questions that can arise when we come to terms with the breasts developing on our chests.  As adolescents our bodies are coming to terms with what they will be.  Many men here have spoken about their mothers taking them to see a doctor when they developed breasts and generally the doctors said, it will resolve itself.  We know for many of us our breasts remained, or in my case at least, my chest remained soft.  We have ideas of who we 'should" be based on stereotypes we encounter in advertisements and in our peer groups.  When we don't fit the stereotype we generally struggle.  If we actually like the differences we experience it can be even more difficult.

I had confusion both about gender and sexual orientation, probably because I experienced sexual trauma as a boy.  There was a three generation family of pedophiles living next door and they introduced me to play that really wasn't play.  No more needs to be said.

Most of the men here are comfortable as men and deal with the reality of having breasts in a very straight forward way.  The wear a brassiere because it is more comfortable than doing without one.  For some of us the adventure is a bit more complicated, as this thread suggests.  What is really important that we release shame and live as we are drawn to live.  I sometimes play the edge but always in my mind not in the real world. That is what I mean when I say no problem.  Life is too short for me to do anything other that enjoy each day as best as I can.  That generally involves wearing a brassiere and when i do, I always enjoy the experience.  You are who you are my friend... as Oscar Wilde said, "Be yourself, everyone else is taken."  I have no interest in complying with others expectations of me.  I also have no wish to flaunt my enjoyment of having breasts and sometime wearing a brassiere.  We each have our own path to follow.  I'm very grateful for that... and for the conversations we have on this website about what that looks and feels like.


 

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