So Breasts Rule Right?

Breasts rule. They do. I dare you to disagree with me. Breasts, boobs, tits, knockers, jugs, puppies, the girls...feel free to leave comments with any other names I may have missed.....absolutely rule. Greatest things in the world.

Then why am I a little bit unhappy with one of mine right now? Just one mind you. The other one is still my best friend. But one of them is giving me some trouble, and Im not very happy abou tit at all.

Ive never been very well endowed. Which is the polite way of saying, Ive never had big ones. Ive got great ones sure. Ive had more compliments on my breasts than Ive hot dinners. And since living with Gaanz, Ive had an awful lot of hot dinners. My breasts are awesome. Awe inspiring even. They are. I love them. I would have their babies, but in reality, they are my babies.

I wear a D cup. Have done for the last twenty years. Not because Ive got a lot of breast, no. If I had a lot of breast, and it wasnt fake breast, I wouldnt be able to get around braless as much as I do. And I do, a lot. I have nothing against bra's, just, well, I keep telling you, they are awesome and they stay up there all on their very own. Something to behold they are. Ok, Im bragging, but people, I have to tell you, I have awesome breasts.

Usually.

At the moment, one of them is not quite so awesome. Ok, its still awesome. Its just bothering me. Ive never been one to come home at the end of the day, rip my bra off and sigh a sigh of total relief. But thats what Im doing. See, the one that is bothering me, hurts. A lot. Its never done that before. I think there might be something wrong with it. I prod it, and I poke at it, I cant feel anything wrong with it, it just hurts. So I stop prodding it and poking it. But then it hurts, so I prod it and I poke it some more, its a never ending circle that doesnt stop it actually hurting.

I might get it looked at. Which, in itself, sounds great. But in reality, isnt. See, getting it looked at, is not going to be done after a candle lit dinner and a couple bottles of wine with some hhhhhhot guy. Getting it looked at will be most unromantic, in unflattering full light, by some guy who I actually have to pay to look at it. Something wrong with that situation. But yes, Im going to take my breast off to the doctor and have him look at it.

My poor doctor. Here I am, in a new place, have sourced myself a new doctor, and the first thing I do is drop my knickies and have him look at the business end of me. Then when I go to see him again, I take my top off and flash my awesome breasts at him. My poor doctor is probably thinking Im an oversexed undersexed hypocondriac, just makin stuff up so I can flash my bits at him. I could die of embarrassment, but I wont. Because I need him to look at, prod and poke at, my sore breast.

Thought for this evening.....Did I mention they were awesome?