Blonde & Beautiful with Big Breasts

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Blonde & Beautiful with Big Breasts

What do beautiful blondes, divorce women, tube tops, and big tits have in common? They're funny.

Joe likes blondes, beautiful blondes, blue-eyed blondes, and with big breasts.

"Knock knock."

"Who's there?"

"Tube top."

"Tube top?"

"Boob top."

* * * * *

If you don't know this already, let me tell you a little something about women. Chances are if you're divorced like me, with this no big secret to you, then you already know this about women. Then again, chances are, if you're "in love," recently engaged, or are a newlywed, you'd never believe what I'm about to write here about women.

Truly, I feel bad for you. If you're "in love," recently engaged, or a newlywed, with the spell that women cast over you, it will be years before you know the truth. It will be years before you see your wife, your girlfriend, your significant other, and/or your mistress for the true bitches that they are.

"Ah, women, women, women, women, we all so love, lust over, and sexual desire women."

Yet, unbeknownst to us until we see the real monsters beneath the makeup, hair dye, and sexy clothes, most women are bitches, total bitches. Can I get an Amen? In the way that they flirt, tease, and dress provocatively, most women are sluts? How about a high five to that?

Just as most men are voyeurs, most women are exhibitionists, otherwise they wouldn't be wearing short skirts, low cut tops, barely there bikinis, and sheer, nearly see-through clothes. Am I right? Seriously, just look at how many women don't wear panties when going out in public?

Now, with men risking arrest for lewd and lascivious behavior and being added to the sex registry list, how many men don't wear underwear when leaving the house? Talk about women complaining about living in a man's world and about being held down by double standards, where are men's rights? Hey, maybe we'd like to go out to a dance wearing a short skirt and no underwear. How about that? Maybe we'd like to be up skirted by women? Maybe we'd like for women to ogle our cocks in the way we ogle their cunts.

"Aha! Now you're getting the meaning of this tongue firmly planted in cheek story. My point exactly."

* * * * *

I may be biased and forgive my biased opinion but with me speaking from firsthand experience, most women are money grubbing whores. Most women will go with any man and do any sexual thing as long as he has money and as long as he promises not to look at another woman. Most women will remain faithful, so long as he shall naturally live or until she kills him, whichever comes first.

As my most recent example of women willing to do anything and put up with anything for her man, as long as he has money, look at Ray Rice, the Baltimore Ravens running back. Do you think if Ray Rice wasn't a rich man that his fiancée, Janay Palmer, would tolerate him beating her, knocking her out, and then dragging her out of the elevator with her dress nearly up to her waist? I don't think so. Difficult to tell from the blurred image but I don't think that she was wearing panties. What do you think?

And then she marries the woman beater. What? Huh? Are you kidding me? Why in the Hell would she marry his ass? What's wrong with her? Hit her once, you know he'll be beating on her again. Moreover, he didn't slap her, he punched her with a closed fist. Can't you just see Ray at home?

"I told you, Janay, when I come home from playing football, especially after losing the game, I want my supper ready. Smack, smack. Now get your ass back in the kitchen where it belongs."

* * * * *

Hey, I know that I do and you know that I do. I speak the truth. I'm only telling it the way it is. If you don't know any of this stuff, it's better that you learn now for you to be ready for the future, a future that will, no doubt, show your precious wife going behind your back, knifing you in the back, and taking all of your money to give to her shyster divorce attorney.

Women have it made, don't they? Damn, I'd love to have a woman working to support me while I stayed at home, drank beer, watched the sports channel, and then complained that I had a headache or was tired when she wanted me to have sex with her. This whole thing with men on one side drooling over women and women on the other side teasing men is the biggest scam in life. Men are the victims and women are the victors. For women to have gotten away with this scam for so long, women, by far, are smarter than men. For a man to follow a woman and do anything she wants, all she needs to do is to show him her tits while sucking his cock.

Go ahead, I dare you, I double dare you to tell me that's not true. Once you buy in to the sexuality of women, doomed for life, you can never buy out. You're done. You're finished. You're toast. Women will suck you dry and then spit you out and I'm not writing about cum. I'm writing about money. Money, money, money. If you want the secret to women, it's money.

Most men truly believe that they cannot live without a woman in their lives and in their beds. Yet, a new member of WHC, the Women Hater's Club, which was created long ago by Hal Roach when he created Our Gang, the Little Rascals with Spanky and Alfalfa, I'm here to tell you differently. I'm here to tell you that we'd be better off without women.

"What do you say? Let's boycott women? Who's ready to join the Women Hater's Club? Anyone? Hello? Hey, where'd you all go?"

* * * * *

Let me ask you this. How many times did you masturbate over the stage curtain raising the dress of Spanky's mother? Risqué back then. We saw her slip and then we saw her panties that were more like Granny bloomers. Never expecting to see something like that on Our Gang, that was a hot scene.

Even when watching TV in black and white, we all lusted over Donna Reed with her white gloves, Doris Day with her innocence, and Lucille Ball with her brilliant, red hair. If we weren't masturbating over Marilyn Monroe and Sophia Lauren, then we were masturbating over Jayne Mansfield. Women have always had a hold on us even at a time when every movie was censored for sexual content. They couldn't even French kiss. There was no explicit graphic nudity in the way that there is today. Yet, we still lusted over women. How many of you dreamt of banging Elizabeth Taylor, Natalie Woods, and/or Debbie Reynolds? Yeah, that's what I'm writing about.

What a life? Not counting single mothers who must work two jobs to make ends meet, what a life, what a wonderful life some women have? It's all such a racket. What a sham of a scam that women have played on we men for centuries? How dare they? And how stupid can we be? From Marc Antony with Cleopatra, to Paris with Helen of Troy, to Richard Burton with Elizabeth Taylor, to Eddie Fisher with Debbie Reynolds and Elizabeth Taylor, to Frank Sinatra, Donald Trump, and Hugh Hefner with every women, how many men have risked everything for the love of a woman?

Finding some poor sap to work for them and make money for them while they go shopping and lounge around the pool, I wish I was a broad. I wish I lived the carefree, lap of luxury life of a broad. Granted there are more hard working women, especially single mothers, who don't have an easy life but my two ex-wives were spoiled rotten and pampered like prima donna babies. My fault, I treated them like queens when I should have treated them like the witches and like the bitches that they were. If only I knew then what I know now, my life would have been so different. Never would I have put up with their mistreatment. Pulling their credit cards and taking away their checkbooks, I would have made them earn the money that I gave them in the way that my boss made me earn the money that he gave me.

* * * * *

Without having to vacuum the whole house, fix this and fix that while listening to her nagging me over my drinking, now I get to watch as much football and baseball as I want without having to watch some sappy chick flick. I get to play poker with the boys or go deep fishing any time I want without checking on her schedule first to see if her fat mother or her mean sisters are coming to visit.

"Fuck her and fuck them! I'm free! I'm finally free! Good the fuck bye."

Granted, I'm still a sucker for a beautiful, blue-eyed, blonde broad with big tits. The reason why I was so good to my ex-wives was because both of them had not only were beautiful but also they both had hot bodies with big tits. Moreover, a favorite pastime of mine, both of them not only loved sucking cock but also both of them swallowed. Just ask Brad Pitt, Michael Jordan, Charles Barkley, and/or Tiger Woods what they look for in a woman. They all want a beautiful woman who has big tits and who loves sucking cock. There's nothing like fondling big tits and fingering erect nipples while being sucked by a beautiful broad.

"Ah, life doesn't get any better than that. Yes, indeed, life was good for a while, until I married them."

Had I not married them, they'd surely be sucking someone else while someone else would be sucking me. Once I married them, my bed grew cold and my anger grew hot. Once I married them that was the end of them sucking my cock whenever I wanted them to suck my cock. Once I married them, playing with their big tits while fingering their nipples was off limits. Oh, yeah, unless I came home with flowers and jewelry, the fun bag playground was permanently closed for good.

Always with an excuse, they had a headache. They had their period or was getting their period or just had their period. Are you kidding me? What does them getting, having, or just had their period have to do with them sucking my cock?

They weren't in the mood. They were tired. They found religion and don't do that anymore. Religion? Okay, being that you're on your knees anyway... Fuck me. Is it any wonder why men go to strip clubs and pay a prostitute to do what their wives should be doing?

"What? Huh? Are you kidding me? Hey! Before I give you your weekly allowance, get on your knees and suck my dick."

I may be mistaken but isn't one of the Ten Commandments that thou shall give thy husband a blowjob any time he wants one? Actually, now that I think more about it, my ex-wives sucked my cock more before I married them than they did after I put that big rock on their little finger. Used and abused, as soon as they got all that they were going to get from me, they latched on to someone else, someone with deeper pockets, a smaller brain, and with a naïve appreciation for women.

Only, no longer falling in that trap, now I know better. As soon as they marry the poor bastard, they won't be sucking him in the way they stopped sucking me. Then, when he runs out of money, they'll be fucking him over in the way they fucked me over and again.

* * * * *

I'm a typical guy and I love tits. The bigger the tits, the bigger my attraction to a broad. Even though I have firm man boobs, I wish I had my own set of tits to touch, to feel, to fondle, and that were big enough for me to suck my own nipples. Now don't get me wrong, better than nothing, I like small titties too. Yet a set of D cup breasts hanging down in my face while a woman is leaning over me and sitting on my cock is something very special indeed.

It's like this woman I met in a bar the other day. With legs from here to there, she was tall. She was blonde. She was beautiful. Then, as soon as she opened her mouth to talk, I was in love. My kind of woman, I realized that she had blue eyes that were obviously bigger than her brain. Moreover, as a bonus, she was busty. Oh, baby, did she ever have big tits. Definitely, as if I had won the lottery and hit the trifecta all in the same day, she was my kind of woman.

"May I buy you a drink sweatheart?"

I bought her a drink and we started talking about this, that, and the other thing. Come to find out, we had a lot in common. I liked having my cock sucked and she loved sucking cock. Tell me. What are the odds of that? The perfect woman, it's as if the God of love looked down upon me and took pity on me by giving me my perfect match, my soul mate, a real honest to goodness, beautiful, blonde, blue-eyed, busty cocksucker. Life doesn't get any better than this. And wait, here it comes, she not only loves football but also she loves the Red Sox. Are you kidding me? I'm in love.

"Sweetheart," I said as an icebreaker. "Do me a favor please?"

She was wearing my favorite blouse, a blouse that was even better than a peasant blouse that all of the wenches wore in the middle ages, better known as the dark ages. Oh, yeah, you guessed it. She was wearing a tube top, better known as a boob top. She was wearing the same type of top that a woman wore when Bob Barker of the Price Is Right told her to, "Come on down." The poor woman ran down the aisle and all the up to the stage before taking her place in front of Bob Barker and the world with her tube top down to her waist.

"Ah, life is good."

Invented by the son of Iranian refugees, Elie Tahari, invented the tube top. The President of the United States should give the highest civilian award, the Medal of Freedom award, appropriately bestowed for freeing tits, to this fashion designer who designed tube tops. They should build a statue of him. They should name a building after him. Every city in America should have a street with his name, Elie Tahari Street, Elie Tahari Road, Elie Tahari Boulevard, Elie Tahari Avenue, and Elie Tahari highway. We should have a special day, the Elie Tahari day where every woman in America must wear a tube top in the way that every person in America must wear green on Saint Patrick's Day.

* * * * *

She was wearing a tube top. Can you believe it? A relic from the 70's and 80's, I didn't even know you could buy those anymore. Now answer me this question. Why on Earth would a woman with massive breasts run the risk of wearing a tube top in a bar full of drunken, horny men? Not wanting her to be disappointed, if she was deemed on showing her big breasts, I was deemed on helping her show her huge tits.

"Yes," she said staring at me with the big, beautiful, firm tits. You thought I was going to write big, beautiful, blue eyes, didn't you. "What would you like me to do for you?"

Dizzy with sexual delight, a loaded question for her to ask me, she knew she was playing with fire by the sexy smile she gave me. No doubt, she knew that I was thinking about her looking up at me with those big, beautiful, blue eyes while she sucked my cock and while I fondled her enormous boobs while fingering her hard nipples. She gave me the eye along with her sexy look. She must think me a sucker but I'm not. Fool me once and divorce me twice, I learned the hard way. Now I have women all figured out now. I handed her a hundred dollar bill and watched her eyes light up as if she had just walked in a Parade of Shoes with a buy one and get one free sign on the window.

"Jump up and down until I tell you to stop. I, um, just wanna see somethin'," I said.

Immediately, I watched her nipples harden. Obviously, she knew why I wanted her to jump up and down. Obviously, she knew that as soon as she jumped up and down a couple of times, her tube top would fall and the sexual temperature of every man in that bar would rise. Truly, what I propose by handing her a hundred dollar bill was, indeed, a beautiful thing.

My type of woman, like the dumb broad she is, she jumped up and down in place. Ba boom, ba boom, ba boom, ba boom, I watched her huge, D cup boobs move up and down and up and down with her until I saw all that I needed to see. With her blouse falling lower as her breasts moved higher, her tits popped out of her top. First one and then the other.

"Hello. Nice to meet you...both."

With her jumping up and down and with her big tits out of her top, as if she was trying to walk and chew gum at the same time, it took her a minute to realize that her breasts were exposed.

"Oh, baby."

Man, she sure had big, natural tits. By the stiffness of my erection, I could tell that my cock loved her big jugs as much as I loved her huge melons. Now here's a woman that I need to take home for me to get better acquainted with her tits and for her to get better acquainted with my cock.

"Do me a favor honey. Keep stroking and sucking until I tell you to stop. I have a big, creamy surprise for you."

* * * * *

If I was a broad, especially if I had big tits like this broad does, I'd be flashing my tits all over the place. I'd use my big, shapely tits as my golden keys to unlock those doors that other broads, women who had small and/or deformed breasts, are denied entry. I'd find a stupid man in the way that my first two wives found me and I'd use him to buy me everything I want, furs, jewelry, and expensive trips before asking him to buy me a new car and a condo in Miami.

If I was a broad, I'd be touching myself all the time. If I was a broad, I'd be feeling my tits and fingering my nipples constantly. If I was a broad, I'd be playing with my pussy every chance that I got. If I was a broad, I'd have an entire dresser filled with panty and bras and an entire closet filled with high heel shoes of every color and style. If I was a broad, I wouldn't need a man as long as I had my vibrator, my dildo, and my panties, bras, and high heel shoes.

"Damn, I wish I had been born a broad instead of a man. Damn, I never should have bought my two ex-wives those vibrators, dildos, and all of those panties, bras, and high heel shoes. If only I knew then what I know now, demanding that they stay dressed in their nightgowns without wearing panties underneath, I'd probably still be married to one of them."

THE END

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