I am a lesbian woman and I have large breasts. Oh, I also wear glasses.
Although I haven't always been lesbian, well I have, but hadn't realised it, I have always had big tits. They continued growing throughout my teens and to my disappointment in some ways through my twenties as well. I had hoped they had reached their fullest at a respectable thirty six double D in my early thirties. But then, of course the bloody lingerie manufacturers added all those new, E, F, G and H both single and double letter sizes and I was now not only big breasted, but totally confused. I suspect, but wasn't sure due to the new sizes that they kept growing through my thirties and into my forties. As I reached my mid-forties they have settled down, but gravity has now poked its fucking nose into the equation and they have a 'middle aged sag' to them.
That said, I think they are pretty good tits. In addition to them being full and round, they are nice to hold. They are reasonably firm, but not like silicon jobs and they are soft in the middle when squeezed. Not only have I been told that by several lovers, but I know it myself too, after all I feel them often enough!
I sort of suspected that I wasn't quite like my friends when I was in the sixth form at school and had just had my eighteenth birthday. I had been out with boys. I had kissed them, I had put up with the difficulty of their tongues down my throat and the slightly ridiculous feelings of their hands on my tits. I had coped with the scary sensations of their hands up my skirt and had even managed to hold a couple of cocks, not at the same time I hasten to add, but had felt queasy at the thought of them going up me. I had gone along with it, after all I knew no different and letting boys do that is what young women do, isn't it? As I had held their hard cocks, I had a slight thrill, but also a touch of revulsion. I had been undressed and been naked as a boy leered at my body and soon realised that I didn't like that.
Continually with boys I had this mix of feelings; a combination of excitement and revulsion.
That became more apparent as I moved towards losing my virginity. With eighteen year old girls that is such a massive aspect of their life as boys 'rear their ugly heads' and sex becomes so important just, of course as we have to take the exams that decide our university future. And I can tell you writing essays on such subjects as the political history of Europe, apartheid in America or why the fuck Edward the eighth abdicated as your hormones are exploding probably explains why there is a fairly low glass ceiling for women!
So I left school a virgin, well technically at least. I assumed that a girl is one until she is fucked by a guy. I hadn't been fucked properly. By that I mean having a cock in me, although several times different boys had finger fucked me and one had almost licked my pussy, but my stroking of his cock had made him cum all over my tummy, which I found rather sordid. So I left school a technical virgin, but also a young woman who still had not had an orgasm with a boy. It was that I didn't have orgasms that started the alarm bells of 'am I different' ringing.
I began to suspect that my sexual bits and pieces may have been assembled in a different way to most when I preferred playing game with the boys. It was then I realised that I was a bit of a tomboy. That I didn't want many of things my friends, well the girls I was at school with were hardly friends, wanted began to register with me. It was when I heard the boys I was playing with muttering about fancying Annie Fisher, how good Susie Baron's legs were and how they would like to get Julie Harrington behind the bike-sheds that my differences really hit home. For as I heard them say such things I realised I felt exactly the same.
It also hit me when I fantasised about Madonna who had 'admitted' to having bi tendencies, fell in love with Halle Berry and adored the first female pop star to come out kd Lang.
But at eighteen in the mid-eighties, opportunities to explore one's sexuality were few and far between so it took me a long time to get going.
I guess my real 'lessy thing' started when I was in my last year at the all girl's private school I attended. And it hit me very hard.
It started at the school sports day. I wasn't much into sports as running with two fucking great tits wallowing around on your chest is not only unsightly, well I thought it was, although the boys seemed to like it, but is also pretty painful. So I was a helper; putting out the javelins and discuses, looking after the high jump bar, raking the sand in the pit after the long jump and all that sort of stuff.
By tradition, the last event at the sports day is a four by four hundred meter relay with a six teams. The teams were made up of mums, teachers, fifth and sixth formers, pupils from another local girl's school and pupils who had recently left.
Moira Philipson was in the last group. She had been captain when I was in the third form although I hardly knew her then, but as we had sometimes travelled home on the same bus we were on 'Hi how are you terms?' As we lived near each other I had seen her a few times in the last year or two so as she was waiting for the race we got chatting.
She is a tall, nearly six feet, I guess, slim and fairly pretty, without being particularly glam and certainly not classically beautiful, a bit like me without the tits and glasses I thought as we chatted. She had gone on to Durham university, gained a degree and had got a job in the recently deregularised City as a foreign exchange trader working for Chemical Bank. It was rumoured she earned and absolute shitload of money.
"Not in anything today Tina?"
"No, I'm not much into sports."
"I remember now I was your house captain wasn't I and could never get you into the hockey or netball teams, right?" She said smiling nicely at me.
"That's right, you have a good memory."
"Oh yes that I do, it's the only way I got my A levels and my degree. I'm not really that clever, it's all memory and application."
"Well I am impressed that you remember me" I said as I watched her unzip her track suit top. Lifting her head up from where she had been fiddling the zipper down she looked right into my eyes and said.
"I never forget a pretty face either, or....." as she paused, ran her gaze down to my chest and back up to my eyes. "A gorgeous figure like yours."
That was the moment I knew that I was a lesbian.
"Are you going to the ball this evening?" She asked as she sat on a bench removing her track trousers. Her very brief, tight athlete's shorts showed off her slender, shapely and tanned legs that seemed to go on for ever to perfection. They looked so lithe and smooth and gave me such a jolt of sexual arousal that I nearly gasped. As she bent over and I saw her pert, rounded bottom in the tiny shorts I really did gasp. Looking up quickly she caught me looking and smiled.
"Yes I am, are you?" I garbled. Her reply made my heart pound.