Tits that inspire

But we can all agree, little feather birds called, along with great, big mounds of, ity-bity less than a mouth full, and every thing in between of tits, makes the world go round. Since that is the subject at hand, I'm sticking to Jo's like suction cups.
Not exactly, we have people who can't handle facts that don't agree with their preferred narrative.
 
But we can all agree, little feather birds called, along with great, big mounds of, ity-bity less than a mouth full, and every thing in between of tits, makes the world go round. Since that is the subject at hand, I'm sticking to Jo's like suction cups.
Boobs of all size are to be appreciated as works of art.

But my wife doesn't like to see artificially enhanced ones. She prefers them natural (of all sizes.)

She had hers reduced (and she'll readily say so to anyone who listens,) saying "I didn't like smacking him in the face when I'm riding him."
 
I've thought about some liquid help to make mine more pleasing, but in the end, I'll about the natural. Didn't want the little morsels fuller, just more perfect.
Boobs of all size are to be appreciated as works of art.

But my wife doesn't like to see artificially enhanced ones. She prefers them natural (of all sizes.)

She had hers reduced (and she'll readily say so to anyone who listens,) saying "I didn't like smacking him in the face when I'm riding him."
 
There once was a gal from Lake Cushman,
Whose boobs were so big the could crush men.
When she went to the store,
It was always a chore,
To fit them into a tops that still smooshed them.

I'm a poet and I didn't know it
*bows
I would like to meet this gal.
 
You don’t think much about your breasts as long as they’re just… there. You get used to them, carry on with life, until something changes. Then you realize how much you’d taken for granted.

I miss my cleavage. It’s not like I was showing it off all the time, but I liked a low neckline. It gave me a sense of choice, of femininity. Now I wear tank tops as standard under everything. One breast doesn’t make a cleavage, and I don’t want my scar peeking above my shirt, starting conversations I don’t feel like having.

A friend recently sent me a meme:
“Calm your tit.
Just one tit.
Leave the other one crazy.
That’s your party tit.”


I asked her, “So which one do I still have?”
She shot back, “That’s your par-tit-ion.”

And I laughed, because it was spot-on. A partition. A division. My breast has to do the work of two now: festive and brave at the same time.

That joke keeps me afloat, but underneath it is grief. Grief for the body I knew, for the ease of feeling beautiful in it. Grief for a piece of womanhood that used to feel obvious.

And still, determination: this is what I have, and this is how I move forward. Maybe that’s the new balanceer, my “party-tit.” One breast, two roles. And as long as she stands tall, so do I.
 
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You don’t think much about your breasts as long as they’re just… there. You get used to them, carry on with life, until something changes. Then you realize how much you’d taken for granted.

I miss my cleavage. It’s not like I was showing it off all the time, but I liked a low neckline. It gave me a sense of choice, of femininity. Now I wear tank tops as standard under everything. One breast doesn’t make a cleavage, and I don’t want my scar peeking above my shirt, starting conversations I don’t feel like having.

A friend recently sent me a meme:
“Calm your tit.
Just one tit.
Leave the other one crazy. T
hat’s your party tit.”


I asked her, “So which one do I still have?”
She shot back, “That’s your par-tit-ion.”

And I laughed, because it was spot-on. A partition. A division. My breast has to do the work of two now: festive and brave at the same time.

That joke keeps me afloat, but underneath it is grief. Grief for the body I knew, for the ease of feeling beautiful in it. Grief for a piece of womanhood that used to feel obvious.

And still, determination: this is what I have, and this is how I move forward. Maybe that’s the new balance—my “part-tit.” One breast, two roles. And as long as she stands tall, so do I.
🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂
 
And still, determination: this is what I have, and this is how I move forward. Maybe that’s the new balance—my “part-tit.” One breast, two roles. And as long as she stands tall, so do I.
I went to a life drawing class several years ago and one of the best models was a woman who'd had a mastectomy, challenging us to see her as she was. I wanted to be a much better artist than I am, to capture what she gave us. It was a very powerful statement, that's for sure.
 
I went to a life drawing class several years ago and one of the best models was a woman who'd had a mastectomy, challenging us to see her as she was. I wanted to be a much better artist than I am, to capture what she gave us. It was a very powerful statement, that's for sure.
Wow, that’s really powerful. That someone can turn such vulnerability into such a strong moment, while also giving others the chance to see her as she is, still a complete human being.
 
We certainly have a different regard to our tits compared to say, our feet. I’d find it difficult to be affectionate toward my feet but then I’ve still got both. There’s more to it than that old song ‘You dunno what you’ve got till it’s gone’ because you kinda grow up with your tits.
 
We certainly have a different regard to our tits compared to say, our feet. I’d find it difficult to be affectionate toward my feet but then I’ve still got both. There’s more to it than that old song ‘You dunno what you’ve got till it’s gone’ because you kinda grow up with your tits.
some of us do have a foot fetish too
 
Im not spamming just didnt get a big response from the other want sure if it posted
Maybe it's not spamming, but you're mostly being a nuisance across the boards with these attention seeking post and comments.

To be frank; why would you ask that dumbass question here of all places, and without incentive to answer? Take that shit to Reddit. Or find some actual self worth.
 
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