Tits

Tits: the essence of woman? No, but if I’m completely honest with myself it is most definitely the first feature that any heterosexual male notices when they look at me. I could be a manipulative succubus or a devout and innocent child of god; the first impression I leave only consist of two large spheres of fat. Essentially that is all that breasts are, fat. I’d barely started to wean myself from my parents’ identities and develop my own personality when the ladies started to grow with vigor. That personality has had a long struggle for the lime light. One day, when the ladies shrivel down to leathery sacs that no one finds appealing it is reassuring to know that my intellect and charisma will still be there to support me. The real hope is that someone notices those aspects despite my ample bosom and before my skin begins to prune and my bones become arthritic.