Of Bras.

Now here’s one topic you’ll never tire of reading about on verastic dot com: bras … and the soft, succulent, squeezable female members that seek support in them. Sometimes, they’re known as breasts.  Other times, people give them names that may only be known and used privately. But about the bras…

This bra is made for wearing

I know this African American lady who wears her bra almost twenty-four hours a day. The only time she takes it off is to take a shower and/or put on a new one. I assume there are other less discrete times that may demand for the “offening” of her bra, but that’s beyond this post. Her reason for doing this is to keep her breasts young and perky. I don’t know if this formula works as I have not seen her breasts. I would love to, though. The woman, in question, is about fifty years old – give or take three years.

Curious, I decided to try this formula.  Anything to extend the perky warranty, right? For one week straight, I went to bed with my bra on. I practically wore my bra the entire day except when I had to take a shower. The relief I felt my breasts felt each morning when I released them from the bondage of an underwire bra was immeasurable – micro fiber or not. Standing in the mirror and assessing my breasts, they looked the same to me. Of course, the African American woman did not say the bra will make my breasts perkier. She just said it will slow their inevitable fall from grace.

One week has been too short to tell if their downward spiral was slowed. Nothing would have happened in a week. Apart from the nipples that now look bigger and harder, everything pretty much looks the same. We’ll call this a scientific  experiment, one that I’m doing for the betterment of womanhood – one verastic reader at a time.

These days, my breasts and I get nervous when it’s bed time. My back and chest just start itching at the thought of wearing this bra till morning. And even in the morning, as soon as I take the bra off, I break out in an inexplicable itch that just has to be scratched. Why I put myself through this torture is unknown to me. Oh, yeah, the selfless scientific experiment for the betterment of womanhood. That, and my determination to have perky breasts even after I offload my confusingly identical twin boys and their sister(s) – all of whom are yet to be conceived.

By the way, if you’re wondering why I used that bra up there, it’s because I actually like it. Victoria’s Secret does know how to market their stuff. This Body by Victoria bra is making me feel all kinds of girly. Their Miraculous Bra, on their other  hand, is another story. Any bra that will miraculously increase the size of my tatas is not my friend. I need no increase. Just a genetic formula to make them perky from everlasting to everlasting. Or just till I take my last breath at age 114.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with an old hag who has perky breasts.