Blogging A-Z Challenge: J

J is for Jugs

There is a distinct dearth of potential words that begin with J. As we chatted on Skype last night Master and I discussed them. He suggested jiggy, as in let’s get jiggy (this wants to auto correct to piggy which says all I need to know). I was thinking more about jet, as in jetting off (as we are, to France, tomorrow). But then we came up with jugs. His word for tits. He calls mine a nice pair of jugs. I don’t think they look too bad in this picture either. So, J is for jugs.

Getting to the breast of it

This weeks Food For Thought Friday prompt is about boobs, the questions posed are:
For guys and girls who like girls – what is it that you like about boobs? Is there an ideal shape or size?
For girls – how do you feel about how you feel about your “girls”? Are you happy with them? Have you always been?
For everyone – do you think the female “chest” has been over sexualised?
Like most girls I couldn’t wait to get my first bra, to feel grown up, I guess I was about 12 or 13. I don’t know when I first realised that breasts were something sexual, something a boy would want to touch. As a teenager I had small pert boobs, no bigger than a B cup, I did observe however that the area around my nipples, the areola were quite large. I loved wearing tops that meant you could get away with wearing no bra, enjoying the feel of it without quite knowing what that was telling me.After childbirth I was lucky to still keep most of the pertness of my breasts, but even luckier that my boobs kept some of the size that developed during pregnancy and breastfeeding. My size now is 36D, though I suspect if I lose much more weight I might drop a size. They are still a handful (or two) and though gravity is beginning to take it’s toll, I am still able to get away with going braless. This is just as well as Master prefers me with no bra, particularly in the summer.

Two years ago, I had my nipples pierced and really love the fact I can wear different jewellery in them. I am also enjoying the nipple stretching that I have recently embarked on, though at the moment once a week is all I can manage, as I need to let them recover in between. It arouses me that Master loves my tits so much, and I enjoy the feeling of his fingers pulling and pinching them Over time, my nipples have become much more sensitive and so I am able to orgasm from nipple play alone. I really love my whole breasts being played with too, for me it adds to the arousal.

I would definitely say I am much more happy with the way my breasts are now than when I was younger. But part of that is to do with being with a man who appreciates my body and who isn’t trying to get me to change it (i.e. get slimmer etc). A man who likes to see me show myself to him and who isn’t worried if other men are looking at me too. I feel proud that I have a good pair of tits even at the age of 53.

I love to see other women’s breasts, and though I am completely straight do look at pictures of naked women. I prefer the real thing to silicone, and prefer more natural poses rather than those taken for professional photoshoots. But can appreciate a good pair of boobs on another women, bare or covered. I think that if a woman chooses to show her tits for money, then that is her business. I think that if a woman wants to promote her tits as something then men or other women want to look at then that is ok too. But to be honest, they are just a part of the body, given one that can be sexually arousing to both owner and person looking or feeling. I don’t really understand why some feminist and other groups have become so exercised about the use of women’s breasts in magazines and other media. So long as the woman is old enough and has the capacity to know her own mind and that the choice to show her boobs to others is hers then I really don’t see what the problem is.

Finding ‘it’ again

Over the past few weeks we have either been to busy or else too lethargic to explore our M/s sides. I haven’t necessarily been unhappy with the way things have been, since there is always an undercurrent of BDSM in our relationship. But given the choice I have to admit I do like it to feel a little more obvious. What is more, over recent months Master has bought his girl a few pieces of leather wear that I haven’t had much opportunity to wear. The most recent is a harness that frames my breasts and also has a leather collar. It arrived around Christmas time, but so far I hadn’t worn it, until last night.

It was obvious He was feeling horny as soon as I arrived at His house. There was something in the way He kissed and held me. Not to mention the way He caressed me and spoke to me. He loves me to tell Him who owns me and to say out loud that I am a slut, His slut. So there were clues in our conversation from the start. For once we weren’t going out anywhere, He had prepared dinner for us.
Once we had eaten, He removed my blouse and bra and put on the harness. The soft leather framed my tits and pulled them into a more pert position, it isn’t that I am especially saggy in that department, but a little help is welcome. The collar on this harness is an added bonus, something that doesn’t allow you to forget it is being worn, especially when he attaches a leash to it! I slipped my blouse back on and we sat watching tv and drinking wine. There is something different about sitting together while one of you wears a collar and harness and the other holds the leash. Something which leaves you in no doubt about the power dynamic.
Gradually the tensions of the week slipped away, as those submissive feelings which in truth are never far away take over once again. Master and slave, doing regular things, but with a difference.
Bedtime and He demanded use of the body He owns. Taking possession, plunging inside, declaring me to be His bitch, His slut. Telling me that I was to give my self to Him, that I was to orgasm for Him. Touching me, giving pain to me – squeezing, pulling, biting the pierced nipples He owns.
Then as the orgasms subsided, we settled down to sleep. Both happy in the knowledge that what we have is there. That whatever else we do in our lives, He is still Master and I am still girl. His slave.