I recently spoke with my big brother . He said that he was sent to Vietnam to fight communist expansionism." "And to protect the largest supplier of rubber. So you fought for rubbers too?" I quipted. My big brother thinks I'm lying about my family memories . Honestly, would I be this screwed up if I was? But, I believe memories are what makes us .. Oy. The bizzar events now are comical .. I don't think I told this one before. But, my sister's were obsessed with their breasts. I could hear them fighting in their bedroom. I was down stairs and ran the two flights up to their door. They were wrestling topless in their panties. The first place my eyes went to their breast. My next view was their hair pulling. There was also a musky sent, like a skunk. My first impression was that my sister's breasts were like mine. I have a hollow in my chest that makes my pecks more like breasts. I like breasts, but I focus more on the hooch. It reminds me of a clam's lips.. Yummy. I tried to be discrete when I glance at a lady's clam. But, I have big eyes. Both my sister's spotted my gaze and ran at me. I escaped with a door slam on my butt. Cathleen told me later that the fight had started when they were comparing their breasts. My oldest sister Maura had one breast smaller than the other, while Cathleen still had not developed any cleavage. Cathy asked me to feel her breasts and judge them.. I told her mine were bigger. She slapped me and I ran crying to mom. I was in 2 grade. Mom told me never to insult a woman. Both her breasts were removed and I was bottle fed. Maybe, that's why I'm not a breast man? Memories are important and I am honestly recalling them. Maybe, this is helpfull. 777 |