Showing posts with label Great Tits. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Great Tits. Show all posts

Friday, January 16, 2009

Size Matters

My hairdresser has great tits. I know not whether they are her own, but most certainly, they are captivating. She has other great assets. Thankfully included amongst these is cutting hair.

Before the holidays, she confided in me that she is desperate for a diamond from her boyfriend. He has looked at diamond rings but unfortunately cannot afford one. I mention to her I had to sell my Porsche to procure Mrs. BB’s diamond ring. She tells me this was exactly the sort of ammunition she was looking for!

I am horrified. What have I unleashed? I feel a sense of guilt.

I arrive for my new year’s trim. Leaning over me as she washes my hair I am informed that her boyfriend presented her with a diamond ring over the holidays, having borrowed the money. It is in the shop being fitted. I am provided with an opportunity to open my eyes. Good gods, what a sight!

‘That’s fantastic’, says me, as small tears form in the ducts of my trained eyes.

‘I hope it’s a big one’, I add?

‘No it’s not, it’s very small, but size is not important’, says she.

I choke, my head blanketed in the comfort of her warm and robust bosom. The aroma of eucalyptus and oranges is intoxicating. This woman is in heat.

‘Well, modesty is best with these things’, I confidently offer.

‘Sure’, she says, ‘but it is pretty small.’

As she lifts my head, patting it dry with a towel, I survey this sight. She has big breasts, big hair, a big smile, and a big personality... and apparently a wee diamond ring.

‘Well, I am sure he makes up for it in other ways’, I proffer in a comforting tone.

‘Sure’, she says dismissively with a cheeky smile and gets to work.

She completes her work. I look like a cross between Noel Gallagher and Mr. Spock. Apparently this look is in! I make a mental note to grow out my sideburns.

As I leave, I cannot help but think that though she is overjoyed at receiving a diamond, and is clearly in love, there is a hint of disappointment about the size. After all, this woman is constructed for a big rock on her finger. A modest one might suffice. A small one is lost in the bigness of her Yin.

I reflect. Size really does matter. It is just a case of recognising when.

Beaverboosh