Free The Mammoth Book of Women's Erotic Fantasies by Sonia Florens Page A

nipples as I leaned forward, my tits seeming all the more exposed against the T-shirt above them and bra dangling at their tips. Finally I would let the bra
drop to the floor, and my nipples would pop into view. I was always impressed with this view of myself – I looked as hot as one of those models baring their breasts in the magazines. My
breasts were not so melonous but they were full and quite pretty, with soft pink aureolaes and nicely turned-up nipples. It thrilled me that I was as turned on by my own image as by the women in
magazines – and I thought of how stupid my boyfriend had been not to appreciate such good-looking tits. With my breasts still exposed, I would lie down on my bed, rub my vibrator across my
nipples, and then lower it to my pussy while I imagined elaborate fantasies of people admiring my breasts.
    Many of the fantasies were inspired by real events in which people had lusted after my tits. My friend Jackie, for example, really did run her hand over my exposed cleavage as she waited our
table at the bar. Jackie is a dedicated lesbian but looks like a sorority girl. She wears tight black pants or little tiny skirts, both of which show off her lean legs and pert arse. She probably
has nice tits but generally wears rather high-cut T-shirts that detract attention from them – working at the bar, legs increase your tips but cleavage attracts stalkers. I also generally kept
my breasts well-covered. On this particular night, however, I wore my tight T-shirt over a long, shimmering burgundy slip that I had bought at a thrift store and wore as a dress. “What a
pretty skirt,” she told me. I lifted my shirt to show her the top of the slip. The neckline was shaped like a butterfly, its wings cupping my breasts so tightly that I didn’t need to
wear a bra. It was quite low cut, however, a fact that was not lost on Jackie. Before this, she had never exhibited any signs of attraction towards me, which is not surprising considering she
generally dates boyish, muscular women. But seeing my chest decorated with the slinky butterfly she gasped, reached out and ran her hand lightly across my cleavage. “You look so good,”
she murmured. “I’ve never seen you in anything like that.” Embarrassed at this unexpected attention, I lowered the T-shirt back down. “I know you like butterflies,” I
told her awkwardly. But she was undaunted, and attempted to show off my chest to the rest of our friends. “Have you guys seen Olivia in this dress?” she asked them. “She should
wear stuff like this all the time.” She badgered me until I lifted it to show the table, after which she provided a free drink.
    Since Jackie’s girlfriend was sitting at the next table, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t actually trying to sleep with me. But as I thought about this event later that night, I
became increasingly turned on remembering her appreciation of my tits. In my imagination, after she runs her hand across them, she leaves her hand holding my breast, exploring it gently with her
thumb. It reaches down under the edge of the slip and teases my nipple until it grows hard and pokes out indecently through the cloth. Then, realizing the inappropriateness of the setting, she
leads me by the hand to the back room. There she wraps her arms around me and begins to make out with me, rubbing her hands across my tits and leaning down to suck on them. She doesn’t lower
the top of my slip but pulls my breasts out of it so that the butterfly wings lie crushed just below my nipples. As she stands with her pretty face pressed firmly into my breast, her girlfriend
enters the room. I think she’ll be angry, and I start to step back from Jackie. But the girlfriend has evidently been invited, because she walks right over, grabs me from behind, and kisses
the back of my neck. She leans over my shoulder toward Jackie, and soon the two of them are kissing passionately just next to my ear. I feel the girlfriend’s hands