It’s a beautiful warm summer’s day. Not a cloud in the sky and just a gentle breeze. In those days we were all just learning about the dangers of sun exposure so we thought a bit of sunscreen and we could still lie in the sun for hours. It was our afternoon off and we were enjoying the opportunity to relax in the warm sun.
Your towell was next to mine but a little closer to the water so as I looked over I could just see the top of your head.
You, Judy and I had become really good friends over these last few years as we all came together for this annual ten day program and the planning that went with it. You had let us know that your man had asked you to marry him and you had said yes although you hadn’t announced it yet. We were so happy for you. John was going to be joining us in a couple of days but for the moment it was just the three of us from the old guard. We were enjoying each other’s company.
Just as I was thinking about the times we had had together I looked over to you sun baking with your eyes closed. As I looked I noticed your bikini top had slipped down on the side closest to me to reveal a circular area just a little darker than the skin around it and very flat and smooth. As a friend one voice inside said to look away. But another voice was saying “this is very beautiful, appreciate it.” I acted on that second voice. It was a beautiful sight. Your breast was so round and smooth. There was something quite intimate in that moment as well – just appreciating your beauty.
You must have felt my gaze because you opened your eyes, looked over at me and realizing what had happened adjusted your top. As our eyes met, you smiled. Partly from embarrassment, but partly also because there was a moment of sharing. A closeness. I was embarrassed that you caught me looking at you. But I was also partly glad. It deepened the moment somehow. I was no longer an undetected voyeur. You knew I found you attractive even though the circumstances made it a little uncomfortable for you.
I’m sorry I broke the trust between us. But I am glad for the experience.

I love this lane. It’s just about wall to wall cafes with a fine chocolate shop thrown in. It’s funky too. One of the waiters has black hair cut to a point at the front with really cool black glasses. I’d post a pic of home here if he weren’t so elusive.
Today I’m walking past the last cafe. There’s a new waitress here today. I don’t know what you call here style. I could ask my daughters. They’d be able to tell me. Her hair is cut short, no shorn at the back and sides with a long section on the top, dyed bright orange and set so t forms a point a couple of inches in front of her forehead.
A style garunteed to attract a look.
As she come out the font with some coffees I notice she has a shoulderless black top on. Solid fabric at the front and lace at the back. She’s very obviously braless. The lace at the back confirms it. No bra. Her nipples are standing out and her small breasts bounce gently as she walks.
That counts as the pleasant sight of the day.
It made me think though. It’s not a sight you see very often these days. When I started uni in the early seventies there were braless girls everywhere. As a young, still teenage, boy my eyes were just about popping out of my head. But we got used to it. Not that we stopped looking. We just stopped drooling quite as much.
At around the same time a new restaurant called The Pancake Parlour, opened in Melbourne. All the waitresses there were braless under t-shirts. I guess it was the height of radical feminism.
It’s not nearly so common now. We seem to have returned to a more restrictive fashion regime. Maybe women discovered men found the braless look a turn on. They discovered men would try to get themselves into a position where they could sneak a peek at a whole, unrestrained, breast. Maybe, no probably, no almost certainly, we made them feel uncomfortable. Shame on us.
Why do we have to do that. It’s no secret we like looking at breasts, but we turn women away from us by the way we go about it. In so doing we miss the opportunity to look at breasts.
We’ve made women feel like they have to cover up. When they do go bra-free they often wear nipple covers to avoid unwanted attention. They avoid bending over in case they become fully exposed.
Why should it matter? Why can’t we just get over it and accept that women have breasts. It’s nice when we catch a glimpse if them. But can’t we show some respect in the process?

Now we are up and running again, we would like create a theme for breast stories. We would be really interested to start with a banner image.

I personally think it should be some sort of image of breasts. However we have never published an image of a naked breast here – not, I might add because we think there is anything wrong with images of naked breasts, its just that we don’t want people coming here just for that purpose.

So if we did have breasts in our banner, they would have to be either stylised, soft focus or semi hidden some how. I’, currently very taken with the idea of soft focus.

I’d really like to know what you think.

all the breast

Chris

Hi,

Finally breast stories is back online after an absence of several months.

We made a big mistake with all our blogging platforms. We upgraded from MovableType version 4 to MT5. This had the effect of killing all our blogs. We have finally rectified that and moved everything over to WordPress.

It’s so nice to be back.

breast wishes

Chris

It never ceases to amaze me how much I’ve still got to learn.

I was driving past my old high school the other day with a (female) friend in the car. One of the streets opposite the school is Abbott Street. After pointing out my school, I commented about Abbott Street  (which runs from the school to the beach a couple of kilometres away.)  ”Abbott Street, that’s where all the girls used to go topless.”

Then, remembering my friend also grew up not far from there I said “You might have been…” I got a little embarrassed then and didn’t finish the sentence, but she answered anyway.

“I was.”

“Oh, I might have been watching you.”

I was a bit embarrassed at the thought.

I didn’t need to be, she laughed and said “We liked it when the boys looked at us.”

That’s so obvious. If I was a girly lying on the beach topless, I would have liked it when boys looked at me.”

The amazing thing is this thought had never occurred to me in my whole life. As a young man, I was so caught up in my desire to look at naked breasts and my embarrassment when I did, I had never stopped to think what the girls thought. I knew it was an unwritten rule you were not supposed to be caught looking – well at least not staring. From that I had concluded that the girls didn’t want us to look. From the feminist in my I also wanted to avoid the common presumption amongst men that women exist solely for our pleasure and they dress for our pleasure.

There’s a fine line here. Of course we all like to be attractive. There is a difference between acknowledging another person’s attractiveness and believing they present themselves as they do simply for our pleasure.

Having erred for far too long on the side of safety and withholding most displays of appreciation, I am slowly learning that it’s not only OK, it is mean spirited to withhold. That freedom is a nice feeling.