Breast Intentions

I live with Susan, a house mate who is the source of my waking and sleeping fantasies, beautiful, curvy and, wouldn’t you know it, more interested in the girls than guys.

She is a fashion student and one day I find in her room a strange, new female mannequin as curvy as its owner and confusingly realistic. Is it just a mannequin? What does Susan use it for? What will I do when I find out?

This is the story of the last week, the teasing, the looks, her body and my desires.

Part one of Breast Intentions, the story of my housemate’s tits: my obsession.

She leant in, one hand on the doorknob and gave me the once over, a half-smile curling her lip up and a knowing look in her eye as she took in my barely-awake and half-naked appearance. She was gorgeous. Long, black hair to her shoulders, oval face and a little nose that twitched whenever she smiled. Two beautifully large breasts that she always wore held together in sports bras and low cut tops as though to constantly distract me. Or any other man. A slim waistline that only further emphasised her top-heaviness but a curvy butt over strong thighs and long legs from athletics and dancing. She was my waking fantasy.