I walked into my math class to find *Marissa grading papers. No one else was there, though I was sure it was the time my class usually starts. As I turned to walk out of the room she asked me a question about my project that was soon to be due. We talked for a few minutes before she asked me if I would like to go get lunch. Through all of my emotions I was able to get a yes past my barely-breathing lungs and my quick-beating heart. I’m sure my response was barely audible as my jaw seemed to lock and there was not much breath behind my word.
*Marissa was far from the typical blonde. Sure, like most blondes, she was beautiful, had gorgeous eyes, and an amazing body. But to simply describe her that way would be a gross injustice. There is so much more to her.
She had a stylish haircut. One of those that you usually see in the magazines, but never actually see anyone with. Well, maybe in places where trendy people with money hang out and drink cappuccinos and talk about important things.
It is short in the back and increases in length towards her face. I’m not a hairstylist, so that is the best description I can give, but I think I can do better with the rest of the description.
Anyway, her eyes are a beautiful shade of brown. More on the lighter side, but upon close inspection, it is obvious that they are not anything but brown. Her nose is small but proportionate to her face, and has a slight bump at the middle of the bridge, only noticeable when looking at her profile. Her lips are thin but appear to be amazingly kissable. Her neck is long and slender, leading down to her soft shoulders.
Her body is amazing, but not porn star amazing, real woman amazing. She has beautiful, natural breasts, and though I’ve never seen anymore than a little bit of skin and cleavage one time when she wore a low-cut silk blouse, that was enough to tell me that I wouldn’t be disappointed if one of my daydreams ever became real. Her stomach is flat and her back is free of extra baggage. Nothing around the hips either. She has a great shape, and her butt is that of someone who does yoga or some serious aerobics.
As we walked down the hall, she grabbed my hand. I smiled, and we continued walking, down the hall and out the door into the sunshine, which seemed to be close to setting. Perhaps it was not midday after all.
We walked on a grass field, most likely a soccer field or a football field at the school. She stopped, turned to me, and kissed me, this time lingering a little bit and I could feel the sensation of her lips pulling away from mine. The feeling was almost as if they had always been there and were now, for the first time being separated.
We continued walking, we were in a neighborhood I’ve seen in my dreams before, but do not remember ever visiting in real life. We continued walking and again, she kissed me.
She decided that she did not want to eat anymore, but that she still wanted to spend time with me. We stop and kiss again. I was excited and hopeful, all the while thinking to myself that if nothing more came of the situation, it would still be an amazing memory.
As we walked down a city street lined with shops we see a building that resembled a Catholic church typical in Manhattan. It was tall and the walls were brown, with various religious sculptures set into them.
We sat down, and she sat on my lap facing me and we kissed. It seems that we are the only people out on the streets at the time, although it could not have been past five p.m., but it was still winter, although towards the end, and unseasonably warm.
I didn’t see her take off her shirt but when I opened my eyes again, it was off. She was wearing a black lace bra. Her breasts were perfection as I had always imagined they would be. Obviously, I had never seen them in just a bra, but seeing her in her cute tops while teaching, I would imagine what they might look like. And my description of them after seeing more of them is still similar to the images I painted in my imagination during class and countless nights after. Her breasts are a nice size, I don’t know much about actual letter size but I’d guess they are mid B cups.
I had always watched her as she reached up to write lessons on the board. I know this may be an odd way to describe it, but when she would reach up, I would refer to her breasts as being “left to their own devices”. My usage of the word is similar to the actual usage. Basically, left to their own form, shape without the restraint of other things. In my ’experience’ I’ve noticed that there seems to be only a couple of positions where breasts are able to move freely without the restraint of the clothing or muscle. These positions allow them to move freely, even when in a bra, assuming that the bra is soft, or whatever. Again, I’m not an expert on terminology, I am more of a visual learner and when left to their own devices you can see more of the actual shape, size, and consistency of the breasts. Also, it is a good way to tell natural from fake breasts as the natural ones, when in this position, will jiggle and move with the slightest of movements, while the fake ones do not move as much and when they do they move as a solid mass. In case you can’t tell, not only do I prefer natural breasts, regardless of size, but one might even say I am borderline obsessed with their individuality and intricacies.
Anyway, I’ve watched her and I always knew that her breasts were real and amazing.