The Perfect Breasts

During the time that I dated Sarah, I spent a fair amount of time in the townhouse that she shared with two roommates, Lisa and Beth. Often I'd be there on a weekend morning. Now, I'm a pretty affable guy, and useful too; I'd make small repairs and do guy things, like carrying heavy objects. The roommates had grown comfortable with me being around. Sufficiently comfortable that it wasn't out of the ordinary for Lisa to come out from her bedroom in her underwear to, say, get clean clothes from the dryer. Or for Beth to walk around with only a t-shirt, one that barely reached her panties. And lots of times, someone just wore a bra, no shirt. Yep, I was almost one of the girls.

But I'm a guy. And the sight of them in revealing underwear drove me crazy. I acted nonchalant, not letting them know how their lack of clothes turned me on. But their familiarity with me had its limits. The roommates were careful never to let me see them naked. Some lines shouldn't be crossed. Things might have gone on like that indefinitely, except for the incident.

Sarah and I were at the kitchen table one morning when we heard a shriek and a cry of 'Oh my God!' from Lisa's bedroom. We rushed in, and Lisa was standing on the bed, bare breasted, just in panties. "It's under the dresser," she cried.

Hiding under the dresser was a mouse, more scared of Lisa than she was of it. Lisa moved about the bed, those beautiful, full breasts bouncing as she directed my effort to trap the critter. Modesty was forgotten over her focus on the mouse. It took a few minutes to corral the rodent and then trap it under a bucket. I carried it outside.

When I returned, Lisa was abashed. Once the "threat" was gone, she realized that I had seen her bare breasts while she bounced around the bed. She was embarrassed. "You must think I'm an idiot," she said. "And an exhibitionist."

I tried to make light of it. "Hey, you're not the first woman with breasts. I'm told a lot of woman have them."

"Yeah, but we don't normally show them off. You'll never look at me the same way," she said.

"Maybe, but that's not a bad thing. I don't think I've ever seen more beautiful breasts. You're very lucky."

I hadn't intended to be so forward, but the reply just came out.

"You really think so?" Lisa asked, sincerely.

"Yes. The way they're proportioned to your body, their firmness, how they gently bounced as you moved. They're perfect."

Sarah, my girlfriend, was listening to this, and was miffed. "Hey, so what does that make me?" she asked.

"Oh, you're very pretty too," I hastily tried to recover, realizing where this was headed.

"You've never said anything nice like that about me," Sarah said.

Beth too was listening, and although I hadn't said anything about her, she felt the need to chime in.

"Lisa has a nice shape, but her proportions aren't any better than the rest of us," Beth said. I guess girls are sensitive about their breasts.

"No, no, of course not," I stammered. "I just haven't seen you naked, that's all. I'm sure you're beautiful too."

Sarah dragged me away before things got more complicated, but a seed had been planted. Who had the best breasts? I guess like some guys who want to have the longest and thickest penis, girls are competitive with each other over their shape. I just never thought about it.

But they did. Over the coming days, Sarah and Beth stewed over my observation. I guess they felt disrespected. Lisa was unhappy too, awkward over having been elevated above her two friends.

They decided to resolve the matter. Something I couldn't have dreamt of. They would have a contest. I'd be the judge. I was stunned when they told me. But being the nice guy that I am, I accepted the challenge.

Here's how it went. First I was blindfolded. They stood me against a wall. The girls removed their shirts and bras. One by one, each girl quietly moved to me, and I felt their breasts. I gauged the weight, the shape, the contour of the nipples. I ran my hands over their shoulders, their chests, to get a sense of the proportion of the breasts to the body itself. Each girl didn't make a sound while I did this, to not give away their identity. Now, I of course had experience with Sarah, but the other girls were not widely dissimilar in body type. And in truth, I had never focused on the specifics of Sarah's shape while groping her. I suspected which one of the three was Sarah, but I was not certain.

When I had felt all three (and I took my time in doing it -- one can't be too thorough), they asked me to rank the first, second then third set of breasts I had felt. Still blindfolded, I gave my opinion.

When the blindfold was removed, the girls were standing in front of me, still topless. I had ranked Sarah, Lisa, then Beth, in that order for the best breasts. Now, a small secret. Lisa's breasts were in fact the best. But I had guessed which was Sarah's and made a diplomatic decision as to the winner -- in my self-interest. Sarah came to me with a broad smile and kissed me, letting me reprise my exploration of her chest.

After that day, the girls were much less cautious around me. Beth would come from the shower with a towel around her waist, and another one around her hair -- her chest exposed. Lisa, secretly very flattered by my initial assessment of her breasts, smiled more at me and wore even less. And Sarah, the 'winner' of the contest, remained my girlfriend for a good while afterward. But when we broke up (amicably -- she met someone else), I began dating Lisa who by then had moved into her own apartment. It was meant to be. I'm a connoisseur of breasts. And hers are perfect.