Jul. 19, 2020

REALLY-BIG-BREASTS ARE FOR MEN WHO RESENT BRAINS.

Pausing just-long enough to marry me… Jack, my new husband, quickly returned to his life as a single man. Only weeks after our honeymoon, Jack returned to his sex-obsessed/whore-dog-ways with his long-time “Savings and Loan” secretary/girlfriend from the “wrong side of the tracks”.  Soon, she was replaced with  Jack's new and much-younger secretary—his very-own personal secretary—who had recently graduated from Camden High School.

Like past secretary-girlfriends, Jack’s latest didn’t have secretarial training but the way she dressed—short skirts and tight sweaters—insured job security. Remember, it was the sixties and very- much a man’s world. Unlike his flat-chested secretary from Southern Federal, Jack’s new personal secretary, his latest queen-of-typewriters and all-things-long-and-short-handed, had two very-big and lively assets. Of course, she didn’t have attractive legs and her face was homely but, as the male majority would say, “Who the hell is looking at her face?” Most intriguing, Our Girl-Friday didn’t shave her legs, underarms, or the thick, curly hairs sprouting around the tip of each “asset”. Don’t doubt me.   The day came when I saw the “two of them” up-close and very personal.

It was the late sixties. As Women’s Director for KATV, Channel 7, in Pine Bluff, AR, I worked at their studio in a shopping mall called Jefferson Square. Directly across the hall from the station’s front door was a small business called Pennyrich Bras. One morning I received a phone call from the Bra Store’s owner, asking me to come to her store.   She sounded secretive, saying only that she had something importance to show me. I didn’t know the store’s owner personally. Periodically we’d see each other across the hall and exchanged a smile or a wave but that was all. Curious about what she wanted, I stopped what I was doing to find out.

 Barely inside the bra store, I encountered the owner who, without saying a word, slipped her arm through mine. Like a guide dog, she led me to the back of the store to the dressing room area. Still silent-- she reached up, pulled back one of the dressing room curtains and---standing there—shocked, speechless, and completely naked—was my husband’s personal secretary. In those few seconds, I saw everything-- including the curly, black hairs around her large, dark nipples. For about ten seconds the three of us stood there…transfixed.  No one moved or said a word. After seeing more-than-enough, I turned and walked back to my office.

Several weeks later, the bra store went out of business and the owner left town. Thinking back to that incredible incident, I’m sure most people—especially men—are puzzled when they read about what took place that afternoon. But….any woman who knows her way around the bedroom will understand when I say: “It was a woman-thing.”