Tuesday

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A busty woman finds she is treated differently on Tuesday.
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NOTE: For adults.

It started in sixth grade. That's when my boobies started swelling. No other girl in my class had any breasts at all, but there mine were, and they seemed to get bigger every day.

"Sherry's only twelve, but she looks about twenty in some places," said one of the boys. "If you know what I mean."

And I did, too. Boys and girls called me cow-names, like "Bossy" and "Elsie". Later, they moved onto things like "Chesty" and "Miss Hooters". I hated it until about eighth grade. That's when boys figured out what to do with them.

But you know what? I almost liked it better in sixth grade, when everybody talked about my boobies. At least they didn't pretend they weren't there! All through high school, that's what guys did. They loved feeling them through my sweater, and later, sucking them naked in the back of the car. But they never, ever talked about them. At least not to my face.

The girls, either. Oh, I know they talked about them when I WASN'T there. "Can you believe that Sherry?" they'd snap. "She thinks she can just point those big knockers at any guy she wants!"

Well, I could. They just didn't like to be reminded of that fact.

But when they were around me. "Hi, Sherry, how are you?" Not looking at my chest, not making comments... I suppose it was more... well, polite.

But it's less honest!

In adult life, it was the same. My big boobs enhanced my social life, sure, but my boyfriends pretended it was a secret. Even the guy I was currently seeing, Jerry... I know how much he loves my titties, but it's not from what he says. It's only from what he does when we're in bed. To hear him talk, you might think I was a double A-cup. I didn't get it.

And the same was true of my girlfriends! The less-endowed NEVER made any reference to them, and any friends with comparable chests would talk about them the way you would eccentric relatives. If you don't talk about them, maybe they'll go away.

"Well, you know, girls like us can't wear tops like that."

Girls like us? Why won't you just say girls with big tits?

So all that fed into how I felt about my big breasts. I liked them--I thought. But I understood that they made many people uncomfortable. Everyone seemed to prefer to pretend they weren't even there.

Until last Tuesday.

Tuesday, all of that changed.

Now maybe it was because of what I wore. Nearly all of my bras were in the wash--except that one Jerry bought for me. No, it wasn't a sexy one...at least it wasn't supposed to be. Jerry just thought he might buy me a bra one Christmas, along with my other gifts. Naturally, he was too embarassed to ask me my size, so he tried to check a bra in my drawer and get me one the same size as that. It was really kinda sweet. But as luck would have it, he checked my 'cleavage' bra. The one I wore on those rare occasions that I go to a party, with a low-cut gown. Whenever I do, I want to sort of 'spill' over the top, so I wear a bra that's a little small. I squeeze my triple Ds into a regular D. And that's the bra that I pulled out of the drawer. An ordinary white bra...but two cup sizes too small. I put it on and covered it with what would have been a fairly modest white top with a slight scoop neck and a pair of tight white jeans that showed off my bottom and slim waist. I looked at myself in the mirror.

"Damn, Sherry," I said out loud. "You got yourself some big tits."

Well, it's a fact, and it can't be helped. I sighed and left my apartment on my way to work. So far, a Tuesday like any other Tuesday, really.

"Miss Sherry, you lookin' good," said the doorman at my apartment building.

I grinned. "Thank you, Donald," I said politely, and my good mood probably made me stick out my chest a little. Maybe. And maybe not.

I walked out the door and headed for the bus stop. Construction workers on a site across the street started hooting and clapping. I'd heard it before, but this time, it seemed different. Usually I hear stuff like "Looking good!" and "Yo, mama!" Today, it was more specific.

"Hey, Big Tits!"

"Bounce those suckers over this way!"

"Shake those milk jugs, baby!"

I wasn't sure how I felt about this kind of admiration. But I went on my way.

The bus driver opened the door for me, and his eyes immediately focused on my chest. I bent over a little to get the fare from my purse and he began to sweat...even drool a bit. His eyes never left my bust. I think I even caught him casually fingering his crotch as I handed him the money.

As I walked into the bus looking for a seat, a young man leaped up and offered me his.

"Those need room," he said with a grin.

I smiled and accepted the courtesy. Then I thought about what he had said. Was he making a direct reference to... well, to my big boobs?

I looked up. The young man was standing over me, staring into my deep cleavage. His eyes met mine.

"Thank you," he whispered softly, and went back to his staring.

This was odd. This was a little unnerving. I didn't like the way this Tuesday was turning out at all. I decided to get off the bus a block or so early and walk the rest of the way to work.

As I made my way through the early morning foot traffic, I found men clearing a path for me. Some simply smiled. Others whistled. A few licked their lips, and I'm sure others even rubbed the fronts of their pants at the sight of me.

A group of high school boys ran up and walked alongside of me. They stared at my chest, making me uneasy and causing me to walk even faster. The increase in speed made my breasts bounce each time my heel hit the pavement. The boys liked this. They started accompanying each bounce with a little chant. "Boom...boom...boom," they called, smiling at each other and at me. Or was it "Boob...boob...boob"? Hard to tell. Soon they added hand clapping to their chanting. I blushed, and they murmured with approval at the way the pink coloring on my cheeks traveled from my face to my bosom.

My office building was in sight, and I ran to it. Probably a mistake, since the boys started clapping and cheering all the more. "Bounce those big boobies, baby," called one. "Show us your tits!" shouted another. I sought shelter at my desk. My phone rang.

"Good morning, it's Sherry," I said.

"'Morning, Sherry, it's Gary," said my boss. "May I see you a moment in my office?"

"Right away," I said, and got up and knocked on his door.

"Come in," said Gary, and I entered. He, too, focused on my outsize bosom.

"Sherry, you've got two of the company's biggest assets, and you're not using them to help the firm," he said.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked. "What do you mean?"

"Your tits, for God's sake!" he shouted, standing and walking toward me. "If you'd just show these big monsters a little more, clients would be lined up out our door!"

I was shocked. "Did...did you say, my tits?" I asked.

"Good god! Of course!" he said. He walked over and cupped them in his hands. "Whip 'em out for me now. I want to see what we're dealing with."

I stood a minute, watching him rub the smooth contours of my breasts. Then got ahold of my senses and I bolted out the door.

What in heaven's name was going on? What kind of Tuesday was this? Had the world gone crazy? Tit-crazy?

I walked down the street, unsure where to turn. I ducked into a women's clothing store. A young sales clerk approached me.

"May I help y... oh, my God!" she squealed. "Look at those things! My word, they're huge!"

I couldn't believe my ears. "They're not THAT big," I tried to protest.

"Well, maybe not compared to a stripper's big implants, but for real tits, those are really big!" she said, turning to the rest of the staff. All the sales girls crowded around and murmured their approval. The girl who was speaking to my started poking my breasts with her finger.

"Mm! Soft and firm!" she said. "I'll bet guys love to stick their cocks between these big fun bags!"

"Well, my boyfriend Jerry does, even though he's a little shy abo...hey! What the hell do you think you're doing?" I said, grabbing the girl's hands and pulling them off my mammaries.

"Oh, honey, I'm just admiring your tits!" she protested. "I guess I'm jealous! I'd love to see them naked, wouldn't you?" she said, again addressing the rest of the sales staff. The girls nodded agreement. A few male customers wandered over and put in their own enthusiastic "yes" vote by unzipping their trousers.

I became convinced I was having some bizarre nightmare. I didn't know what to do or what to think. I ran out of the store and got my cell phone out of my purse. I dialed up Jerry.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Jerry, honey, it's Sherry," I said as I walked toward the office building where my boyfriend worked. "Something has happened. I'm not sure what. I'm coming over to see you now."

"Ohhh! And are you bringing 'the girls' with you?" he said in an odd singsong voice.

"I'm alone," I snapped. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean are you bringing those gorgeous triple Ds!" he called. I took the phone away from my ear and shook my head from side to side. I couldn't be hearing what I thought I was hearing. I decided I'd give him the benefit of the doubt and assumed I hadn't heard him correctly. I hung up and kept walking over to his building.

Jerry had come down to the lobby to meet me. "Sherry, baby, what's wrong?" he said as he walked over with his arms outstretched.

At last! Jerry would take me in his arms, kiss me, and tell me everything was going to be alright.

But he didn't. His arms were outstretched for a different reason. Instead of kissing me hello...

...he reached below my collosal bust and lifted until his face was surrounded by soft, pliable, and fragrant tit-flesh. He kissed my breasts all over their exposed tops. That was his greeting. In a public lobby.

"There's a conference room on this floor that's not being used," he whispered as he began tweaking my nipples. "I've got a key, and there's a great big table. You and I could..."

"Jerry! Stop!" I cried, but I couldn't push his hands away. They didn't want to be anywhere else but all over my boobs.

"Sherry, stop being silly," he cooed into my ear. He reached around and cupped my behind as he lifted me into his arms. He carried my body easily down the corridor, continuing to push my breasts into his face.

We entered the conference room. He placed me gently onto the table and locked the door.

"Sherry, I know every man who sees you who wants those tits," he told me. "I'm no different. I gotta have 'em, right now!"

"What's got into you?" I cried. "Into everyone?"

"What are you talking about?" he asked as he pulled down his pants.

"Everyone is going ape over my boobs!" I said.

Jerry smiled. "Today is different than any other day?" He kept on his shirt and tie and crawled onto the table and straddled me.

"Yes, it is!" I said, as he removed my blouse and too-tight bra. "It's Tuesday!"

"Where are 'the girls'?" he giggled, grasping his erection. "This 'boy' wants to be between them!" With that, he grabbed those triple Ds and wrapped them around his 'boy'.

Jerry thrust back and forth, squeezing my breasts with his hands. He obviously enjoyed the sensations of my soft breasts around his hard penis. And I started to enjoy it, too. I liked seeing his expression of pure joy as he loved up my chest. Slowly, he moved his hands from the sides of my breasts in order to grab firmly onto my nipples. I reached over and kept pushing my softness into his hardness. He cried out when he had his orgasm. Jerry pointed it right at my two excited nipples and coated them with his cream. I moved my hands from the sides of breasts to the nipples in order to smooth the hot, sticky liquid into my skin. Jerry collapsed beside me.

"Next," he whispered, "I'll bang your cunt while I suck on 'em!"

"You mean you're ready to go again already?" I asked, not believing my ears or eyes.

"You bet!" he cried as he sank it into me and clamped his mouth on my boobies.

A girl could get used to this kind of attention, I thought to myself.

After a few hours of Jerry's jug-loving, I thought maybe I should get back to my own job. Sure, I'd walked out, but maybe I was being silly. In fact, I called my boss Gary on my cell phone and apologized. I told him I'd been thinking about what he said, and maybe he was right. I'd stop and buy some new, tighter, and lower-cut tops on my way over. I hated to think I wasn't doing my part to help the company!

The next morning... Wednesday... was different. Completely. Oh, I still got lots of looks and whistles. But the craziness had stopped. No overt remarks, no men rubbing their crotches in front of me... and no Jerry fucking my tits in a conference room. I'm still not sure what it was I experienced that Tuesday. A dream, a hallucination... or an incredibly well-planned and executed prank. None of those explanations seemed reasonable. Whatever it was, it was over. But the funny thing is...I can't accept that it simply never happened. You see, something had changed between me and Jerry. I can't really describe it exactly. He still doesn't talk about my boobs. But he doesn't pretend they're not there, either. He... he treats me better, I think. With more... reverence. Respect. Like I'm really something special.

And it's all because...

...well, because...

of Tuesday.

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6 Comments
Mid30s4olderMid30s4olderover 5 years ago
Love big tits!

Great story! what guy doesn't love big tits. keep the stories coming.

HughJardHughJardover 17 years ago
Very well written...

and very clever. Nicely done

HughJardHughJardover 17 years ago
Very well written...

and very clever. Nicely done

walkingeaglewalkingeagleabout 19 years ago
Erotic and toungue in cheek! Great job!

This is a great erotic, but humorus little story! I really enjoyed it!

BlackShanglanBlackShanglanabout 19 years ago
Lusciously amusing

Rather like the protagonist's too-often-ignored endowments! But I shall never look at the children's book "Tuesday" in quite the same way again.

Thanks very much for a pleasantly amusing read.

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