Theresa
- 1 year ago
- 27
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I had known Bryan for years and considered him my best friend. We were very close, but something unspoken had always prevented us from advancing our friendship to the next level, even though we were compatible in so many ways. When he had moved away for college, I was heartbroken, for I ended up staying behind and working in the family business instead, but I was elated when he returned four years later for a job in a neighboring town, for once again my best friend was not someone I could see occasionally, but someone I could see regularly.
Of course, Bryan had changed over the four years of college. He had been exposed to all sorts of things, and he and I would chat about it online or occasionally by phone. He had learned of Japanese animation, philosophical theories which made one question one’s own existence, alternative sexualities, the intricacies of important international legal documents… He shared it all with me, imparting some of his newly-gained knowledge to me and using me as a sounding board to ensure that he properly understood and internalized what he had learned.
Shortly after he had moved back to the area, he invited me over for dinner. I had expected pizza or delivered Chinese (our favorite), but he surprised me and actually cooked — something he had learned in college as well, as a roommate’s girlfriend was an excellent cook and had taught them both several recipes.
As Bryan cooked in the kitchen, I strolled around his apartment. He had already shown me his place, but I took more time to drink it all in. He had bought a two-bedroom apartment, turning one bedroom into a small home office — it still needed more furnishings, but it had a wireless fax/printer and a small desk at which to work in the evenings, and his work laptop showcased one of his major interests by displaying a screensaver of various Corvettes from the 1970s to the present. His bedroom was nice with a very masculine feel, from the sturdy black wrought-iron bed frame to the dark colors of the dresser and the curtains and the sheets. The bathroom was already in need of cleaning, for which I had previously chided him that he needed a woman to help take care of him — and he had wholeheartedly agreed with a wink and a smile. The living room was a showcase of his love of technology, including a large TV, four video game consoles, and his personal laptop.
…which displayed a screensaver of busty women in bikinis.
I sighed. From where he stood in the kitchen, he could not see me as I glanced down at my chest. Perhaps that was the reason we had never progressed beyond our close friendship, I reasoned. Looking at the girls and women shown in the screensaver, I guessed that the smallest of them would wear a C-cup bra.
To the right of his personal laptop was a bookcase which housed no books, but instead functioned as a display for his collection of anime-style figurines. All of the figurines were of women and girls from various Japanese animation series and films and/or from video games. With only two exceptions, all of them were also quite busty, displaying plenty of cleavage in their bikinis or their partially-open shirts or their low-cut tops or dresses. Even in the few cases where the woman’s cleavage was not explicit, where she was fully covered all the way up to the neck, her breasts were so prominent that they attracted even my eyes.
As I sighed sadly again, Bryan emerged from the kitchen, and from the expression on his face, he could see that I was somewhat distressed. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked softly, reaching out to put a hand on my shoulder.
‘These,’ I said, placing my hands on my chest since my breasts were too small to actually be cupped. Then, dropping my hands to my sides, I turned away from him and from the busty females.
There was a moment of hesitation, and then I felt my best friend step up behind me and wrap his arms around me. He had done that many times before, but somehow it took on an additional meaning. ‘Breast size is definitely not an indication of worth, you know,’ he told me.
‘I know, but…’ I just did not have the words to explain to him how I felt like less of a woman sometimes because of the importance placed on having large breasts. I just could not relate to him how so many people would look at me two or three times to try to figure out if I was a woman or a man attempting to masquerade as a woman. I just could not figure out how to make him understand that the most beautiful dresses or tops that I would love to wear just will not fit because they are designed to be filled or even in part supported by large breasts.
To my surprise, he slid a hand onto a breast, the first time Bryan had ever done that with me. ‘I don’t care about what is or isn’t on your chest,’ he told me. Then, moving his hand directly over my heart, he added, ‘I care far more about what’s here, and I know from many years of knowing you that what is here is something I would like to experience for myself.’
His words touched me, and as a smile began to spread across my lips, the smoke alarm sounded.
Dinner was burned.
We ended up ordering pizza, and it was our first meal together as something more than just best friends.
Madison
- 28.08.2020
- 3
- 0
