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« Last post by Busty on Yesterday at 09:42:40 AM »
With a subject like that, one might expect to see a discussion of physical development, such as Tanner stages. Instead, I’m going to focus on the emotional stages as we have gone through physical stages.
Oblivious: I developed breasts the same time as the girls in my class, but I was totally unaware of the soft mounds growing on my chest topped by puffy nipples.
Denial: Of course, before long, my growing breasts were getting me teased, the most common being, I needed to wear a bra. Even so, I kept telling myself I was like the other boys, and I never asked myself why I had stopped looking at my body in the mirror.
Admitting: under the barrage of constant teasing, I finally had to admit to myself that I did have breasts. And they were getting bigger!
Awareness: now that I had admitted, I let myself feel. For example, notice the jiggling. Or how my nipples got saluted when in contact with something cool
Curiosity, dare I call it morbid: I began to examine my breasts, both visually and tactically. How my breasts were soft, fuller at the base, conical in shape, topped by a soft nipple that reminded me of a space capsule.
Embarrassment: Now that I understood my breasts, instead of taking pride in them the way the girls in my class did, I was ashamed.
Camouflaging: I tried to hide my breasts, both by what I wore, and by my posture. I would look in the mirror to see which tops showed less, and I was always hunching my shoulders.
Lurking: I would surreptitiously study the girls in my class. The size of their breasts compared to mine. The types of bras they wore.
Bras: Despite my attempts to camouflage, I was constantly being told I needed to wear a bra. I was continuously, checking out girls’ bras. I was assiduously studying all the bras in mail order catalogues and advertisements.
My mother’s bras: I wanted to be able to touch and examine a bra, So I began sneaking into my mother’s, lingerie drawer, and checking out all her bras. Knew all the styles, underwire, soft cup, Demi, etc.
Me in a bra: like water on a stone, I was being worn down, and it was inevitable that I would think about wearing a bra myself.
Mixed feelings : As I thought more and more about me wearing a bra, I realized my feelings towards my breasts had been evolving to where I was no longer purely humiliated.
My First Bra: One day at school, I decided when I got home, I wasn’t going to just go through my mother’s bras, I was going to put one on.
The rest of that day, I was more aware of my breasts than ever. Every jiggle. How the insides of my top felt as it glided over my nipples with every jiggle.
I had trouble concentrating at school that day. My mind kept drifting back to my mother’s bra collection. In one of my mother’s magazines, I had found an article about what to look for in a girl’s first bra. It had such characteristics as soft, comfortable, gentle support, coverage, modesty.
My mother’s soft cup bras were soft and I guessed they would be comfortable to wear. I thought about support, and wondered how that would feel. I guessed, no more jiggling. That would be nice. I also thought about how the size and shape of my breasts was often evident through my tops, or why else would I get all these comments, so some coverage would be nice, too. Then I thought about the times that my nipples would poke through my tops, clearly visible little hard bumps. Yes, I was all in for some modesty there.
As the day were on, I began more and more to look forward to getting home and getting into one of my mother’s bras. I thought the school day would never end.
And my mind kept coming back to this one bra. It was white with a white lace overlay. And it was anything but the description of a girl’s typical first bra. The cup was underwire, structured push-up, Demi.
When I got home, I raced up to my mother’s bedroom. Pulled off my top and dropped it on the floor. Looking back, my assiduously studying not so different from a woman eager to be in her lover’s embrace.
I had read an article about how to put on your bra. Loop the straps over your shoulders. Lean forward so that your breasts hang down. I even remembered the joke in the article. This is one time that gravity is a girl’s best friend. Line up the bottom of the bra at the base of your breasts. Adjust the shoulder straps if needed, and I did need to lengthen my mother’s, reminding myself to put them back in place afterwards.
All of this, I did in slow motion, because I wasn’t at all experienced. Plus, there was a savoring of every little step.
Once the bra is in the right position vis a vis your breasts, pull the band behind you and clasp behind your back. The bra had two hook and eye closures, and a few length choice so I I chose the loosest. I had a number of tries and misses. Then I got one, but it was misaligned, so I couldn’t get the second, and had to undo the first. Then I finally got one, and then the other.
Straighten the position of your bra, and then reach into the cups of your bra and do swoop and scoop, adjusting your breasts in each bra cup. I was surprised at how much side tissue I had, and how with swooping and scooping, my bra seemed to gather up everything and use it to fill my bra cups.
I could actually feel myself filling the cups of my bra. I mean, my bra was filled with me!
I could feel how the bra was containing my breasts, from below, in- and out- sides, my nipples, But interestingly enough, the coverage did not extend fully to the tops of my breasts.
I, also, could feel how my breasts were sitting up on a shelf-like padding inside the cups of my bra. It felt really nice having the support of that shelf under my breasts.
I looked in the mirror. I have to admit I was stunned. That bra looked so good on me. I looked really good in a bra.
Pride: I had a new feeling that I never had before with my breasts. I felt proud I could fill the cups of my mother‘s bra. And I had this crazy thought, I am young and still growing.
I loved how my breasts looked in a bra. How a bra looked on me. The conical shape and shallower upper breast had been replaced by a rounder, fuller look. And my breasts looked so lifted and out there.
I tried walking around, and you will probably laugh, doing jumping jacks. The jiggling had been replaced by controlled movement of my breasts.
Epiphany: I realized I belonged in a bra as much as any girl in my class. And I wanted to tell everyone who had teased me, that they were right. I did need to wear a bra. Even though they had been mean, I felt like thanking them. I wished I could show everyone. Let everyone see how good I looked in a Let everyone see how good I looked in a bra. And I wanted to be in a bra as much as I could after that.
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