Instead of Reading 30 Pages Of Berkeley...

...I've decided to compose a rather descriptive post on my breasts.

I was somewhat of a late bloomer...whatever late is. Of course, I could just be under the impression that I was late because I attended school with mostly black people...and well, black girls tend to develop quicker than white girls. Besides all that, I was in gymnastics practically from the time I could walk until I was 13 (and yes, I've managed to retain a considerable amount of bendiness...).

So, I really had no breasts until I quit the whole gymanstics thing...at which point everything seemed to happen simultaneously...pubic hair, height, period...breasts...but I won't expound on the formers.

Actually, when I was a little girl my friends were all convinced I was going to have huge boobs. I think it's mainly because my nipples were fairly larger than most of my friends, even as a child. Looking back, I'm slightly amused that I was so aware of the size of my nipples...but never of the color. Then again, I'm not sure I would have noticed the size discrepancies had my friends not pointed them out. And while my other friends possessed red or brown nipples...I didn't give much thought to mine being pink.

However, I am proud to report that my breasts grew nicely into my nipples. And my friends were all right - my boobs are bigger than theirs (although I by no means think that nipple size will determine breast size). But this offered little to no consolation to me after I became mortified with the color of my nipples.

Thanks to ToFu for this.

ToFu was the first male to ever see my breasts, and it wasn't anything intimate. To make a long story short, I was "dating" (I was hardly 14, and we hadn't been "dating" long) ToFu's best friend, and the very first day ToFu and I were introduced, the three of us played "Strip Thirty-one" to entertain ourselves. I lost numerous times, but was ridiculously frightened to show them my breasts. ToFu was incessant that I flash them, however...because, after all, I'd lost. Well, ToFu only had his boxers left anyway, so I demanded one more freebie (I had only learned to play "Thirty-one" that day), and they agreed. Oddly enough, ToFu lost the next game, but complained that it wasn't fair because I'd gotten so many freebies. So we all agreed that whoever lost the next game HAD to show something (although my boyfriend at the time was still practically fully clothed). Of course I lost. So I whined and cried and told ToFu that if he showed me his dick, that I'd show him my boobies. I guess he really wanted to see my boobies because he agreed to this little arrangement...and ToFu's was the first penis I ever saw. Even then it was pretty, but I won't bother you with that. (In case there was any speculation, my boyfriend had left the room to do whatever, I don't really remember, and it's irrelevant...either way, he saw neither ToFu's penis nor my breasts.) And so, there was nothing left for me to do except flash ToFu. So I did, for several seconds. And I'll never forget the perplexed look on his face. So I quickly pulled my shirt down.

"Wait, I didn't get a good enough look...do that again," he told me. I rolled my eyes, but complied.

My attempt to summarize those events did little to shorten the story.

It wasn't until much later, after we'd gotten together, that I would learn about his fascination with my pink nipples. He told me how he's seen red nipples, brown nipples, etc., but never pink ones.

Of course, this did nothing for me except draw attention to the fact that I was different.

Guys don't seem to mind, however. But I always thought they were just tolerant of my nipples. It's as if I figured they thought my nipples were kind of weird...but nipples, nonetheless. So why complain, pink, large, or not?

But lately I've been coming around to my nipples. My once-considered-peculiar (to me) pink nipples, similar in diamater to half dollars (areola included), setting off breasts that perfectly fill the cups in my size 34C bras. Sure, my right breast is slightly larger than my left, but it's nothing too noticable, short of thorough examination. And, there's a small scar on the underside of the nipple of my left breast that I acquired from a cat scratch when I was barely six years old. Oh, and I can often see my left breast vibrate from my heartbeat. Is that weird?