I was so wet. I reached down and gathered up some of my juices to rub onto my nipples, licking off what was left on my fingers. God, it felt amazing. ...t didnt take me long to figure out that I was one of a breast fetish. Sometimes in class, sitting in the back where I did, I would cross my arms so that no one could see, and I would just massage my nipples through my shirt. God forbid anyone ever see me doing it. I had been watching the man and his wife for quite some time by then. I was eager. London in my early twenties, and still not a proper long-term girlfriend in sight. I began to think maybe there was something in me that was fundamentally unlovable, with all my insecurities about the fairer-sex coming to a head in the early nineteen-nineties.But thankfully, before our story gets too depressing, that’s when my luck changed and this ugly duckling got a shot at ‘swandom’. And the catalyst for this wonderful Hallelujah moment was a move from the old world to the new. Because. More

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