Life as a 40DDDDDDDDDDD
Glo's writer reveals what it's really like to have super-sized breasts.
Over the years, my breasts have been the object of both insult and admiration. I don't dress to attract attention, but cleavage aficionados spot me a mile away. Some of the compliments I've received (by way of my breasts) include "You call it sagging; I call it heaven," while another beau asserted, "Doctors may label your breasts pendulous, but I consider you stupendulous." And I'll never forget this one: "It's those amazing breasts you have that drive a man wild with hope and desire."
Some men focus so exclusively on my breasts that they forget there is a living, breathing person attached. When I was 14, walking in a mall, two men passed by me. "Look at the teats on that cow!" one said to the other, barely a foot from me. It's imprinted indelibly on my psyche.
Other random (and hurtful) comments: "You know they're too big, right?" and "More than a mouthful is a waste." One tactless man called me "soft and un-toned."
Even men who appreciate my breasts often feel compelled to tell me that my derriere is too big. Apparently these men don't realize that Mother Nature gives a woman large, childbearing hips to balance large, child-sustaining breasts. Very few extremely slender women have extra-large bosoms; they'd topple over. Fertility goddesses have curves.
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