Submitted as part of the
Literotica Nude Day Story Contest 2024
From braless...
Raise your hand ladies if you've ever come home and started to pull your bra off before the door closes. Yeah, same here.
My life has been a love-hate relationship with bras. When I was eleven, I couldn't wait to get a training bra and when my mom gave in, I was proud to wear it to school even though there wasn't anything for it to support. As my body developed, I learned the struggle of finding a bra that was comfortable, provided support, and kept my nipples from sticking out.
I learned that, as I had wanted to be able to put a bra on, the guys I had started to date couldn't wait to take it off. I finally let one but discovered that it was safer for me to take it off than to risk him tearing the hooks apart.
Finally, I learned that some bras were sexier than others and worked better with different types of tops. Shapers to give me more cleavage and then (when I moved out of the house), low cut bras to show off that cleavage.
Then came professional dress. I joined an accounting firm. We didn't have a specific dress code other than dressing professionally, especially when we met with clients. But, I learned the unwritten rules from my first mentor including no visible tattoos and that no one should be able to tell what I was wearing under my dress-for-success suit and blouse. So, bras became boring and uncomfortable during the week and the fun ones were for Friday and Saturday nights.
I don't remember exactly when, but I started to think of bras as something that I had to wear and not something that I wore for appearance or, God forbid, comfort. I shopped for something that worked for both support and comfort and even had a couple of professional bra fittings. Support, yes but nothing was all that comfortable.
Coming home from my office, I would hang up my suit and often just put on jeans and a t-shirt. I didn't bother changing my underwear though. If I was going out, I'd, of course, dress for the occasion. For a date, I'd think about what he might see if it reached the point of us getting undressed but I knew that he was unlikely to spend a lot of time admiring my bra before he moved on to the contents.
It was a hotter than normal August day when I came home from work. I hadn't run the air conditioning while I was at work so my apartment seemed hotter than normal and I couldn't wait to get out of my girl-boss clothes into something a lot more comfortable. As I changed, I cooled down some as I took off my suit jacket and blouse. My deodorant had worked but my breasts felt hot and sweaty. I decided that a shower was in order so I took off everything. Coming out of the shower, I still felt like the house hadn't cooled down and pulling a t-shirt from my dresser, I decided to say the hell with the bra. So what if my nips showed--I wasn't going anywhere and didn't have plans for anyone to come over.
I should probably mention, I don't like the idea of my boobs flopping around in public but in all honesty, support was less of an issue for me than it is for some women. I was upset when they stopped at a b-cup and in college I actually considered getting implants. Now, I'm happy that they match my size and that they won't sag when I'm older. So, my normal hesitance about going braless is more about what people might think if they noticed.
I pulled on the t-shirt and sat down to eat and watch some TV. It was probably a couple of hours later than it occurred to me that I wasn't readjusting the straps and didn't have any boob sweat.
This was the beginning of a new habit. Now, when I changed out of my office clothes, unless I was going out or having friends over, the bra came off with my blouse.
One evening, the AC was running on high and my nipples were partly erect. Sitting alone, I could feel them rubbing on the material but I had gotten used to the feel and didn't really notice. But I panicked a bit when the doorbell rang. I had a choice of putting something on that would cover up or letting whoever it was see the obvious signs of bralessness.
If you're asking why I cared, now I don't but back then this was new to me. I wasn't expecting any guests and I probably didn't need to stress about some random person selling fundraising tickets or whatever. I decided to just answer the door and if it was a friend or someone who I would ask in, I'd let them in and then go put on something that would be less visible.
It turned out to be one of my neighbors who had borrowed some one of my fancier serving plates. She had invited a new boyfriend over for a fancy dinner and wanted to impress him. I'd have been happy to just take them back at the doorway but it was obvious that she wanted to talk so I asked her in. She started in on the story of her dinner, how much she liked the guy, how grateful she was for the dishes, etc. Stopping her to change clothes was going to be awkward so I let her babble on and hoped that she was so absorbed with her story that she wouldn't notice my nipples which I imagined were sticking out an inch by now. To make a long story short, I don't think she noticed that I was braless or she didn't care.
Around this time, I became aware that, on occasion, I'd be shopping or something and some of the women I was with weren't wearing bras. I'd notice how, beyond nipples poking through, some women's tops would cling to their breasts differently, showing more of their natural shape. I hadn't noticed until I started thinking about going out braless and I suspected that others were as oblivious as I had been or, more likely, they didn't care. That was when I realized that I was probably worrying too much about nothing. It was the beginning of a whole new attitude for me.
So the next weekend, I decided to be brave and for the first time since junior high, I left the house without a bra. The world didn't fall in and no one screamed Jezebel at me so I elected to dress--or undress--for comfort when I felt like it. Let me be clear, I didn't do this wearing thin t-shirts. To the contrary, I shopped for some informal tops and considered whether the material was going to let my nipples poke through. If anyone noticed what I wasn't wearing, they didn't say anything.
The first time I discovered that people knew that the only thing under my top was me came on a date. It was a second date and the first had gone well. At the end of the evening, we were walking through a park, holding hands and enjoying each other's company. In a more or less private area, we leaned in to kiss which sort of got heavier than I'd usually like in public. We were facing each other--my hands were behind his neck and his were around my waist sitting on my hips. As we made out, his hands started moving up and down, rubbing my back. When they reached the level where he would have found a bra strap, he paused, felt around, and then went back to the up and down movement. He was a gentleman and, even if he had figured out that I was braless, didn't say anything or move his hands from my back to my front until our next date (which is another story).
* * * * *
To topless...
Dumping my bra when I got home from work became standard practice for me. I got comfortable enough with the feeling of my unrestrained breasts under my top that, depending on what we were doing, I'd leave my bra at home when going out with friends or even on a date.
That winter, I came home from the office, hung up my suit and put my blouse in the laundry pile. I put my bra aside planning to wear it again before it needed to be washed. Given the chilly weather, I pulled on a wool sweater instead of a thinner fabric shirt.
