I am used to being held by you, but I must carefully consider my size.

Since meeting my husband, he's been the sole provider of my bras. According to him, it's his pleasure, something he can't take away. Okay, so he's a "breast fetishist" too. Otherwise, we probably wouldn't be husband and wife. Back then, I was desperate to escape the shadow of Wanji (my ex-husband), and I had a phobia of handsome, sunny men. Looking at my husband's seemingly honest face, I thought: let's see how it goes. Later I found out that on our first meeting, while I was bending down to get a drink, his eyes had already slipped into my neckline: "Wow, cleavage!" He immediately decided to launch his romantic offensive. I was furious. Don't I have any other redeeming qualities? Everyone's only interested in my breasts.
There was no Taobao back then; I could only buy bras at the mall, and it was the first time in my life I'd spent over a thousand yuan on underwear. Watching my husband pay, I realized he really didn't care about the cost; damn it, I did! He was blinded by lust. But big brands are definitely different; they were firm and comfortable. At that time, I hadn't had a baby yet, and my breasts were still hemispherical, not sagging. The bra was a push-up type, and my cleavage was almost squeezed to my neck. Looking at his lecherous, lecherous expression, I was both angry and amused. We'd already touched and kissed, and he still insisted on seeing my cleavage. That night, my husband forced me to wear a low-cut, cleavage-revealing dress to go shopping. At the time, I really didn't understand what this man was thinking. Aren't there stories of men who would pull a knife if their girlfriend was looked at too many times? After giving birth, my breasts sagged, and the shape became like papaya breasts. My husband still enjoyed it, buying me all sorts of bras. Some were push-up and firm, some were ultra-thin with visible nipples, some were like strappy bikinis, swaying back and forth.
I guess I understand now, men are boys until they die. Breasts are his big toys, not just for his own caresses, but also to show off his pleasure to others.

(The last sentence is
a poem and doesn't directly relate to the
bra
description .)

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I am used to being held by you, but I must carefully consider my size.

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