I was twenty one, seven months married to a nineteen year old, recently moved into a tiny one bedroom house, a low paying office job, the house, utilities, and car expenses. Now a new born baby! What did I get myself into?
Somehow we survived. Since many of Dollie's old high school girlfriends had boyfriends in the service or they were now on their own, there seemed to be 19 year old girls in my house all the time. My younger brother had joined the Army, leaving Mary, his girlfriend, Doll's best friend, with nothing to do but pester us. I tried to join the Marines, the Navy, and even the Air Force. Being married, a kid on the way, and wearing glasses none wanted me. I stayed home and defended our young friends.
Two things worked in my favor. We had a home of our own. Tiny, one bedroom, now used as a nursery, and that baby. Young women love babies and they were there to help Doll almost daily. Doll and I slept in the small living room on a fold out sofa bed. The small kitchen had the dining room table and chairs. Off to the left was a small bathroom with an old claw foot tub. Thru the back door was a nicely finished knotty pine add on porch about 8' X 30', the width of the small house. I added an upright freezer, storage shelves for food, and later a tiny dark room for printing my own black and white photos in that back room. The house was small yet cozy.
Back then very few had more than one car. Doll didn't drive so she had a two wheeled shopping cart that she pushed to and from the grocery store, bakery, and dairy store a few blocks down a main city street. By then Doll was wearing her micro mini skirts or short shorts and some sort of eye catching top wherever she went. I didn't mind and by this time she didn't care if people were staring.
(Pay attention, everything meaningless I write has a purpose.)
Those short shorts would soon be known as hot pants in a few years. To us they were just ass cheek showing shorts. Something popular for younger women was wearing men's undershirts, sort of white tank tops with vertical ribs. The outtie ribs were fine but those alternating innies seemed to be transparent. On men they didn't seem to show. On boobies those ribs were shear and I remember Doll's pink flesh showing like she was topless. Inside under normal light they weren't as transparent. But in a grocery store under fluorescent lights or in bright sunlight some of those tops made Doll almost look topless. She didn't care.
Nothing to do with our little house. But I know someone is gonna ask.
This is about the time when those tit lovin listeners ask "what size bras does she wear or how big are those tits?" Way back when Doll was a teen and into her 30's she was a tall, thin, top heavy blonde white gal. Yes that's why I got so thrilled dressing her like Barbie Doll, taking tit pictures, and coaxing her to flash those jugs.
I'm gonna do my best to write this the way we tell others. First off Doll does not often wear a tit holder so I can't run and look at a tag. Bras are like shoes. You can try on a dozen different brands and you'll end up with a dozen different sizes. That's why it's Victoria's secret.
We raised four kids, she belonged to PTA, attended many school functions, helped at church, yard sales, and visited family that had no idea we are slightly perverted, As many others, we've always lived two separate lives. Family, friends, and kids think we are angels. Yes bras and panties had their times and places. Mostly these were places rug rats would be.
One day I was with her while she shopped at a Big Box store for a bra. Doll walked up to me carrying a big white bra. She seemed flustered not finding one that fit right. Next thing I knew, right there in front of other customers, Doll stuck one cup of that white bra on my head. "That's it! Now next time I won't have to look through a hundred bras. I'll just stick them on your head until I find one that fits good and snug." That my tit lovin friends is what size boob my lovely wife has, an average man's head size.
