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Tuesday, November 10, 2009

For F's Sake...

G’day out there, all my fellow coffee-slurpers. I can’t think of a more appropriately-named blog for me to be a part of, although I do worry that my presence here will tip the balance away from “fuelled” and towards “dependent”.

Firstly, I’d like to thank Jenna for inviting me to join the fun here, and to thank everyone for their hospitality. It’s been very warming in the cockles of my heart and the heart of…er, anyway…

Now, communication obviously works vastly differently for us guys than it does for women. Here in Australia, especially, it’s not unusual to have a phone conversation between two men which runs along the lines of:
Ring ring...
“Yup?”
“Wanker.”
“Poof.”
“Pub?”
“Yup.”
“8.30?”
“Yup.”
“Cool.”
Click.

As a male in a women’s domain, I realise I might need to think carefully about what I say and how I say it. Any subject I tackle will need to be handled with sensitivity, poise, and a certain decorum which is only fitting when in the company of such bright and lovely ladies. As such, for my first blog, I thought I’d write about huge tits.

I had cause today to shop for brassieres, size 16F. Though the measurements probably differ between countries, I don’t think anyone would doubt that, as breasts go, 16F is pretty large.

At this point it probably should be noted that I’m not quite like the average man. I love to bake, I’m crap at building stuff and I do housework. I also see no problem with going into the lingerie section and grabbing hold of the goods (so to speak).

On a side note, I do love to watch how other guys react in there. Fingers coiled around wifey’s arm so tightly that he’s causing gangrene, just in case she gets away from him. God, what if one of his buddies walked past and saw him? And thought he was in there alone? What would they think? No, the missus needs to be there to prove that he’s shopping for her, and not for himself, I mean, what do you think he is, one a them hommer sapiens or sumpin’?

On the other hand, I can’t help wondering how it looks when I’m shopping in there, running my fingers over the fabric and sorting through to the bigger sizes at the back, bringing my face right up against the bras at the front. I swear I can hear every woman’s eyes narrowing as they stare at my back. Right, one little blob of drool and we’re calling security.

But I digress.

I learned today that buying a 16F brassiere is quite difficult. I tried one major international department store, where cup sizes apparently only went up to E. I tried another, smaller department store and found a great gaping hole in their product range - you guessed it, 16F. They had Double Ds coming out of their ears, an ocean of Es, they even had Gs, but not a 16F to be found.

That’s when masculine mathematics kicks in, and you start to wonder…well, now, if she needs a 16F, then how about if I get a smaller bra but with a bigger cup, or vice-versa…’cause then it’ll probably average out…yeah, sounds good.

No, I’m reliably informed that that does NOT, in fact, sound good. Hey, just ’cause it’s wrong doesn’t mean it’s not logical!

Then, suddenly, the holy grail leapt out and curled delicately around my searching fingers. A 16F minimiser bra! But it’s friggin’ black! She has probably only two tops she could wear a black bra with. Damn. Back to the coal face.

We men are pretty capable beings, though with a very real tendency for fragility. We’d rather say up front we know nothing so that we protect ourselves from guessing and looking stupid. Most guys can do complex tasks: build shelves, change washers or tinker around under the hood of a car (not me, but hey...did I mention I bake?) Nothing in the male upbringing, though, can prepare a guy for buying a brassiere. If it’s not the size, it’s the cups. Does it have an underwire? Should it have an underwire? How many clips are there at the back? Are the clips at the back? What colour is it? What friggin’ flavour is it?

Happily, eventually, I succeeded: one 16F, one 14F with an extender. It only took two stores and an hour of my life. 30 minutes per bra. Hell, it only takes me half that long to remove one!

I am, after all, still a man.
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Shameless plug time! My new e-book, my first with eXcessica, has just been released. "The Three-Day Hump" is a story of lust, obsession and sexual addiction. Especially for those who enjoy erotica with a touch of grit...
Thanks for having me!

4 comments:

Secretia said...

What is the American Huge Titty size equivalent?

Rozlyn Sparks said...

Ahh the joys of bra shopping. LoL. Wonderful first post. You are going to fit in so well here.

Sarah Levin Colter said...

Wow, that is a huge bra size! Them is some bigguns! :) I love this blog! You definitely fit right in! :)

Willsin Rowe said...

Thank you all for your comments.

I found this site...

http://www.85b.org/bra_conv.php

...and apparently 16F Australian converts to 38F US.