1998 11 Lessons In Anatomy



Welcome, everyone, to the inaugural issue of Honest Bra, our new E-Zine devoted entirely to “all-natural” women. As most of you know, I myself was blessed (or cursed depending on how you look at it) with naturally large breasts. Yes, they’re real, and my chest has never seen the sharp edge of a surgeon’s scalpel – ever.

I began developing at a very early age, and let me tell you, growing up with unusually large breasts is not easy. I experienced all the typical adolescent taunts about my boobs and often begged my mother for a breast reduction. Fortunately, my mom was wise enough to tell me I’d have to make that decision when I was an adult. So with no way out, I often tried to disguise my chest behind big sweaters and sloppy clothes to avoid drawing any extra attention to my fledgling boobies or to me.

Boy, haven’t things changed since then ? Most girls are made to feel like freaks if they happen to develop faster than the rest of their friends. When you’re young, being different is a curse. Add the fact that big breasts are a symbol (justifiably or not) of overt sexuality – something a young girl and the young boys teasing her are not prepared to deal with – and you’re doubly cursed.

It took many years to overcome that tortured adolescence and to learn how to accept my breasts along with their various advantages and disadvantages. Now after all this time, I’ve learned to deal with the comments and stares. I’ve learned how to dress them up and dress them down (depending on the desired effect). I’ve learned how to buy bras, and I know which clothes I can and can’t wear successfully. I’m finally in a place where I can accept and enjoy my breasts for better or for worse, but there’s one thing that just pisses me off to no end…

Now that implants have become so common, I am constantly faced with people questioning the authenticity of my breasts. That translates into, “Oh come on! Are those tits real?” Now, people love to ask me this question at any time or place, and usually with no regard for my feelings. They act like, “Hey, if she has big knockers, they must be implants.” I have worked hard to establish myself as one of the premier all-natural nude models. I work out constantly to stay in shape and am religious about wearing a bra at all times to keep them firm. So, quite frankly, it hurts like hell to hear people say my tits are fake. I don’t go around asking guys if their dicks are real. Do you know what I’m saying?

Recently it was brought to my attention that some total asshole in my building was making wisecracks about my “fake” tits to one of my neighbors. So, when it got back to me, I hatched a little plan… I decided this “stud” needed a lesson in anatomy and I was going to make him my captive pupil by trapping him in the elevator of my building. In that cozy little capsule with nowhere to escape, my friend was going to get an education in real vs. fake he would never forget.

I chose a really sophisticated short skirt with a tight blouse for my impromptu anatomy class. Did I happen to mention that I wasn’t wearing any panties? I actually blushed as the cool fall breeze blew across my newly bare pussy. I had to shave completely clean for a recent photo shoot, but that is whole different story. Once I had my pupil exactly where I wanted him, it was show time. He walked into the elevator and just as the doors closed, I reached around him and flipped the lock. Now we were alone and he was about to learn the error of his ways…

I lifted one of my precious mammaries out into the openness and let him have a feel. He couldn’t believe how soft and light my breast was. I could tell by the way his lips quivered that he was dying to take a lick, but my lesson wasn’t quite finished. I moved all around inside the tight, intimate surroundings of the elevator, letting him see how natural breasts swing from side to side like a pendulum from a fine Swiss clock, and his eyes followed every movement. I even flashed him a quick look at my “bare as you dare” pussy and I thought he was going to explode right there.

When I was finished, my neighbor had a new found respect for all natural boobies and was well on his way to becoming an expert on the subject of soft bodies. He’d also learned quite a bit about improving his manners. It was after that little incident I decided not to let all these insensitive people get me upset. The poor dears just need a little education and this is one lesson I’m quite qualified to teach.