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sigher posted:Tiddies are powerful. I could be doing the most fun thing in the universe, eating the best tasting dish to have ever existed or be higher than giraffe pussy but if there's a tiddy around it usurps all enjoyment and will get my attention. So, I went on a big backpacking trip for a few months with my girlfriend and a bunch of her friends when we finished highschool. We ended up at a lot of beaches where people were topless and nude. Eventually all the girls I am with get comfortable enough to do this too. There is me, 18 year old Junior Grapes, surrounded by a half dozen topless girls, on a beach with hundreds more. It was amazing, and terrible at the same time. I saw lots of boobies. All the boobies. This went on for weeks. It was a curse. I wanted to do beach-things like sleep, and read my book. But, closing my eyes or looking at the book meant I was not looking at the boobs, and I felt that deep in my heart that I should be maximizing these moments. When I would walk into town to go the market and bring food back for all my friends, I would be wondering what bodacious boobs I might be missing while I was gone for two hours. Who knows what vision of wonder could be jumping around in the surf or slathering her honkers with lotion while I was away? It was maddening. One day, I won't be surrounded by boobs, and would I not look back at all that time spent unconscious and staring at my book as eminently wasteful, when I was basically in boob heaven? What kind of ingrate was I, to stare at my stupid Neal Stephenson book while surrounded by visions of heaven? This cool old gnarly dude I met on the fishing docks strolled up the beach and offered to take me spear-fishing. I declined, because there were too many boobs around. I wish I went spear-fishing. So, I'd look at the boobs. In the beginning I was kind of embarrassed about looking, especially because my girlfriend was around, so I'd sneak a quick glance at her and her friends and kind of try to turn the other way and get my nose in the book. I was caught. 'Mr. Grapes! You can look! We're all friends here! Shouldn't you be loving this?". I was doomed. I looked at all the boobs. I remember one time we went to a deserted beach in Cambodia, but it was actually rather cold that day so all the girls kept their clothes on. There were also no ambient boobs around from other random beachgoers. It was just me and the six others. Finally, a time to read my book! I was actually excited for the chance. But no, within an hour the sun came bearing down upon us and the boobs came out of hiding. I lowered the book slightly out of my eyeline, and resigned myself to a day of boobs. Boobs. They can be a curse. Ye best beware. Mr. Grapes! fucked around with this message at 10:53 on Nov 4, 2021 |
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Nov 4, 2021 10:47
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| # ¿ Apr 29, 2024 18:31 |
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