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Women Only
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Straight Female / 30
After My Phase With Other Women I Settled For A Man And Marriage
I'm French Canadian, what that means is that I inherited my stature from my parents. My father is a small man and my mother is petite. What that means is that I am petite, without hips or tits. Well skeleton wise I do have hips, it is that there are no curves there. As to tits the only reason I wear a bra is to keep my nipples in check.
I went to McGill to study Psychology. Of course I met those girls who fight the patriarchy and prefer to sleep around with other girls. I fit in, I never developed this deep seated need for a man with authority, who are always attracted to men with beards, police officer and military types. My mother is a deep Catholic, my father is rather agnostic. But when it came time for me to come along my mother was ecstatic to have a girl and not a boy. My father tried hard to make a boy out of me, but I sat on the lap of my uncle and let him hug me.
All my life I wore girly clothes, and very girly panties. My mother insisted on feminine, not masculine, and my father insisted I learn how to change a tire and change a lightbulb. So, pardon me if I'm confused. Male or female was a big part of growing up. My hair and nails were female, my trousers were boyish. More than once I went into the water topless, but no one noticed.
I was at camp when I was fourteen, it was an all girls camp, and we got lessons in cooking and keeping house, my mother's insistence. Life skills for young women. I slept in a dorm room with five other girls, and some of them had very developed chests and insisted on teasing me. I was roughed up quite a bit and held down with tits in my face, and another girl's nose between my legs. Yes, it is hormones, but this was to teach me, what a real girl's tits were.
When I got to McGill I wasn't exactly naive about what tits in your face felt like, and to be frank I had never had a boy between my legs, but several girls instead. I was too small for a man, I was told. Never let a guy touch you, I was told. Here let me show you how girls make love. If you eat me I'll eat you. My roommate at University had a woman's body, big breasts and big hips, and she liked showing me. Of course I liked her, to be smothered between her breasts, to have her fingers in me, to feel her hot lips and probing tongue and to get lost between her legs when she let me.
But luck for me would be different. One evening a man chased me and locked me up and got my fairy panties off and thrust his massive cock in me. It was so big I had to hold it with both hands before putting my mouth around it. I did my best, I crawled and whimpered, and he chased me down like a cat with a tiny mouse and enveloped me while his massive cock went in me. Again and again and I wasn't satisfied. He passed out and I remained awake beside him.
But once you have cock, nothing else will do. You are a slave to it. All those lessons I learned at camp and from my mother I put to work for him. That he was loud and demanding, that he wanted 'it' and made fun of my panties, that he insisted on changing the light bulb, and gassing the car and all those man things, only made me want to be with him. I was over whatever games I had played, I wanted to marry him, even if I was barely twenty. I was READY to get pregnant.
I never had such a big belly. I was petite and had a small baby. That my firstborn was male, with his tiny weeny, made me proud for my husband. The second baby was a girl, I had done my duty. Two, and a pair, male and female. PERFECT. My husband grew a beard after his son was born, to show him what a man looked like. I dressed my precious little girl baby in precious little girl outfits. In my house, I mean his house, a boy is a boy and a girl a girl.
So is it evolution, or society at large, or my upbringing? Those days of girls with big chests I got lost in, well I still admire a nice set of tits on a woman. I'm jealous. But I got from my mother what my mother had to give me. And my husband has no choice but to like them that way, even if he looks at big chested women.
I went to McGill to study Psychology. Of course I met those girls who fight the patriarchy and prefer to sleep around with other girls. I fit in, I never developed this deep seated need for a man with authority, who are always attracted to men with beards, police officer and military types. My mother is a deep Catholic, my father is rather agnostic. But when it came time for me to come along my mother was ecstatic to have a girl and not a boy. My father tried hard to make a boy out of me, but I sat on the lap of my uncle and let him hug me.
All my life I wore girly clothes, and very girly panties. My mother insisted on feminine, not masculine, and my father insisted I learn how to change a tire and change a lightbulb. So, pardon me if I'm confused. Male or female was a big part of growing up. My hair and nails were female, my trousers were boyish. More than once I went into the water topless, but no one noticed.
I was at camp when I was fourteen, it was an all girls camp, and we got lessons in cooking and keeping house, my mother's insistence. Life skills for young women. I slept in a dorm room with five other girls, and some of them had very developed chests and insisted on teasing me. I was roughed up quite a bit and held down with tits in my face, and another girl's nose between my legs. Yes, it is hormones, but this was to teach me, what a real girl's tits were.
When I got to McGill I wasn't exactly naive about what tits in your face felt like, and to be frank I had never had a boy between my legs, but several girls instead. I was too small for a man, I was told. Never let a guy touch you, I was told. Here let me show you how girls make love. If you eat me I'll eat you. My roommate at University had a woman's body, big breasts and big hips, and she liked showing me. Of course I liked her, to be smothered between her breasts, to have her fingers in me, to feel her hot lips and probing tongue and to get lost between her legs when she let me.
But luck for me would be different. One evening a man chased me and locked me up and got my fairy panties off and thrust his massive cock in me. It was so big I had to hold it with both hands before putting my mouth around it. I did my best, I crawled and whimpered, and he chased me down like a cat with a tiny mouse and enveloped me while his massive cock went in me. Again and again and I wasn't satisfied. He passed out and I remained awake beside him.
But once you have cock, nothing else will do. You are a slave to it. All those lessons I learned at camp and from my mother I put to work for him. That he was loud and demanding, that he wanted 'it' and made fun of my panties, that he insisted on changing the light bulb, and gassing the car and all those man things, only made me want to be with him. I was over whatever games I had played, I wanted to marry him, even if I was barely twenty. I was READY to get pregnant.
I never had such a big belly. I was petite and had a small baby. That my firstborn was male, with his tiny weeny, made me proud for my husband. The second baby was a girl, I had done my duty. Two, and a pair, male and female. PERFECT. My husband grew a beard after his son was born, to show him what a man looked like. I dressed my precious little girl baby in precious little girl outfits. In my house, I mean his house, a boy is a boy and a girl a girl.
So is it evolution, or society at large, or my upbringing? Those days of girls with big chests I got lost in, well I still admire a nice set of tits on a woman. I'm jealous. But I got from my mother what my mother had to give me. And my husband has no choice but to like them that way, even if he looks at big chested women.
