| | Part I
Quote from Notting hill
Anna Scott: What is it
about men and nudity? Particularly breasts? How can you be so interested in
them?
William: Well...
Anna Scott: I mean
seriously: they're just breasts. Every second person has them. They're odd
looking, they're for milk from your mother. What's all the fuss about?
Perhaps if they are not beacon of fertility and youthfulness,
the interest would fall?
Perhaps if women refrain from hiding their breasts, the
interest will fall?
Perhaps if they are not sexually sensitive, the interest
would fall?
Perhaps if they are shaped like cubes, the interest would fall?
Perhaps if men have them as well, the interest would fall?
Besides, true, they’re breasts. Actually, they’re women’s
breasts, not just female’s breasts, as in that of other animals. It is like the
horns of goats, or the air sacs of frogs. I would even say the women’s breasts,
and how men play with them, is unique among all living beings. I don’t want to
go into all those evolutionary explanations, so let’s just say the obsession
with tits is hardwired in men.
Things get even more interesting when our culture put
clothing into the mix. Let’s face it, clothes may cover some skins, but they can
never extinguish imagination, in fact I think sometimes they are the perfect match. There
are infinite combinations, but in a public setting, loose-fitting tops are
outright sinful.
I am sure every man has had his encounter with those tops,
and the chance to peek through the cleavage, and all the way down. When a girl is
talking to a guy and squeezes her shoulders together or just bows down, it is like
an invitation, and it is almost impolite not to accept her generosity. 
What’s funny is that when she got back up and you refocus
back on her face, sometimes you can sense as if a trace of kinkiness leaks from
the corner of her lips. Nevertheless, whether that is intentional or not, no
one knows, as women will not admit showing just as men will not admit peeping,
at least not up front. So, shhhhhhhh.
I am not trying to justify anything, I am just saying
such behavior exist in all men, whether you like it or not. If a man tell you
otherwise, either he doesn’t like women, or he lies.
And, if all these are sins, I will be happy to go to hell,
with my partner in crime of course.
Part II
Touching them is a whole different story.
I do have preferences for shape and size, everyone does, but
I also know I am dealing with a real person, not a doll. So physical appearance
is more like a gift, I will gladly accept whatever I have, and being healthy is
good enough.
Besides, on top of all these, I think sensitivity is what I
care most. I still believe it is psychological and some people are so
disconnected with their sexuality that they simply shut themselves down.
Unlike unhooking a bra, I like to do this part sitting right
behind my girl, with some clothes on at the beginning. I am obsessed with tank
top, with the bra removed of course. I want to have my body in contact with
every inch of hers, while her back lied comfortably on me.
 A big hug with a kiss on her neck would be a good start. My
lips then spent a few moments with her ear lobe, slight but repeated bites. Arms
wrapped around her waist and palms on her lower abs, above her top. There was only one way to
go, up. I stopped right at the bottom of her breasts. The curviest part, so
well hidden, it is a privilege to touch, to kiss, and to feel. I like to slide
my nails across, ever so slightly. That heated her up a bit, and she began to
rub her cheek against my neck.
It’s probably a good time to give her a little surprise, so
I grabbed the whole breasts suddenly and push in and up as if I want to force
some air out of her. That made her tilted her head backward, onto my shoulder, along
with a sigh, of excitement. I gave her a little naughty smile and asked “you
like that?”, and she repaid me with a slight bite on my neck.
Up a bit more my hands reached the side, which is another
hidden place where men don’t get to see or touch very often. At the same time
my tongue and lips were all over her neck and shoulder. She was certainly not
passive and her hands began to move. One covered my hands as mine moved under
her top to cover the whole tits, the other glided through my hair and cheek as
the fingers from my other hand brushed her from the side, to the armpit, and to the
arm.
Now on top of the icing I placed the cherry between my fingers
and started squeezing, while my palm was massaging the rest of the cake. I
sensed her chest moved faster as her nipple hardens, and the rest of her torso
began to twist and rub against mine. She seemed to want me to attend to the
other nipple as she moved my free hand to her chest, so I gladly obeyed and slipped
it under her top, through her arm as well.
This would be chapter one perhaps? I haven’t even taken off
her tops, nor tasted the cherries yet, but if that make her feel good, I would serve
her for as long as she wanted.
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