Saturday, October 22, 2011

Mrs. Partridge


"... What do we have to choose, then? Heaviness or lightness? This is the problem. One thing was certain: the opposition heavy-light is the most mysterious and most ambiguous of all opposition. "
Milan Kundera

     Mrs. Partridge had been the cause, in a completely unintentional way, of my first sexual arousal.
I must have been at the end of my childhood when she and her husband came to live next to our house. I met her for the first time on a Sunday afternoon, while she was unloading the moving boxes on their driveway; she greeted me with a friendly smile, and began to go back and forth carrying her things into the house.
She was a mature lady, at least to my young boy’s eyes, although with hindsight she was probably then in her thirties. She meant nothing special to me – she was  just a woman like any other, as insignificant in my life as all my mother's friends. Compared to them she was perhaps a little more meaty. Not fat, just rounded. She often wore tight jeans, with her hips so filling them to capacity that I  had to wonder how she managed to get into them.
She meant nothing special to me, that is, until one early summer afternoon I saw her sunbathing in the back yard of their home, on her back. She was lying on a lawn-chair, wearing a red bikini embroidered with flowers; she held a magazine, resting it on her slightly flexed legs, and her relaxed body was a true revelation to me. She was round, everywhere. Strong and muscular legs, a small but pronounced pot-belly, and – especially -  two huge boobs. Or at least huge to me - at the time I had never seen  a pair of breasts that big. As I watched secretly from the window of my bedroom, I wondered how it was that I hadn’t realize earlier that she was extraordinarily beautiful. She inspired ... inspired in me something, I did not know exactly what, at the time ... a kind of physical attraction, thoughts of touching her, massaging those massive thighs, feeling the texture of those soft, round arms ...
Each of us probably has a vivid memory of the first image  that caused symptoms of stiffening in our nether regions, and this was mine - Mrs. Partridge lying blissfully in the sun.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Mrs. Partridge

My first novel is something different. I've been really impressed lately from some women, such Anorei Collins, for example.From their humongous bodies, and from the confidence they have with herselves. I loved it. So, I decided to write something about it: I'm proceeding with the translation and I'll post the first part in a few days.
Thanks everybody, Flower.

What this thing of breasts is all about?

If you are a big breasts lover like me, this question is the point.
I've been surfing around for so long, and I found hundreds of answers: yet, none of them could be considered exhaustive. The reason, probably, is that the matter is so personal and tied in the deep of our instinct; it's not easy at all to speak reasonably about it to other people. Above all if other people don't feel the way you feel.
So, just to add another point of view, I will post here the words of a great writer. I'm pretty sure he wasn't thinking about breasts while writing it, but in any piece of art you can find somehing new everyday.
So, to my eyes, these words fit in a way to what I think about it.

"...But is heaviness truly deplorable and lightness splendid?
The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in
the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man's body.
The heaviest of burdens is therefore simultaneously an image of life's most intense
fulfillment. The heavier the burden, the closer our lives come to the earth, the more real
and truthful they become.
Conversely, the absolute absence of a burden causes man to be lighter than air, to soar
into the heights, take leave of the earth and his earthly being, and become only half
real, his movements as free as they are insignificant.
What then shall we choose? Weight or lightness?
Parmenides posed this very question in the sixth century before Christ. He saw the
world divided into pairs of opposites:
light/darkness, fineness/coarseness, warmth/cold, being/non-being. One half of the
opposition he called positive (light, fineness, warmth, being), the other negative. We
might find this division into positive and negative poles childishly simple except for one
difficulty: which one is positive, weight or lightness?
Parmenides responded: lightness is positive, weight negative.Was he correct or not?
That is the question. The only certainty is: the lightness/weight opposition is the most
mysterious, most ambiguous of all."
Milan Kundera: the umbearable lightness of being.