Sometimes I’m struck by my own boobs. I don’t meant that they flop up and hit me in the face — though that is a potential hazard.
I’m not one to see a lot of beauty in myself. Much of the time I don’t really know what John Brownstone is going on about when he admires some body part or another. Yes, I recognize the curve and sexiness of my ass (I’d probably say it’s my best physical feature). But the rest of me? No, I don’t always see it.
But sometimes my bare breast looks so luscious and so soft and so round that I feel compelled to whip it out and say, “Look Daddy!”
And, dear reader, he does. He looks long and hard and…sometimes he uses his eyes too. [Insert knowing smirk here.] When I ask nicely, he takes a picture of them for me so I can see the beauty for myself.