The nipple theory

I have a theory I'd like to share with you. Actually, I have many theories but let's focus on one for the time being.

Some nipples are rebellious by nature.

I pee. The sudden wave of relief caused by emptying my bladder makes them poke out. As if I didn't know their whereabouts and they had to make sure I am not worried or anything.

I take a hot shower. They get happy and stand out like the insolent little bumps of flesh they are.

I am cold. Et voila. You wouldn't believe it, I know, but two nipples giggle to themselves and make their presence known to me.

I am not ever referring to what takes place if I happen to get really excited about something. Something like Japanese gay porn, in my case. They rise to their fullest height like they are the champions of Nipple Land facing a possible pretender to their title. But anyway. The problem goes beyond that. For example, another part of the problem is that I presently have the tummy of a lady of a castle. And a very inactive and slothful lady for that matter. Or of a four months pregnant female elf, accompanied by the appropriately slim legs, and the hips of a woman painted by fucking Frazetta. All that topped by the face of a charming American Indian with tuberculosis. One would have thought I didn't need rebellious nipples as an addition, but I have them too, whether I asked for them or not.

A positive note is that I am happy about my boobs, blown to surreal proportions after gaining about ten kilos, and forcing me to hug them tightly whenever I have to break into a run. I wouldn't have thought this possible as a skinny teenager, but life had other plans. And there is obviously the matter of gay Japanese porn, found in my links. It's a pity it's not happening in my guestroom, but let's look at where gods decided to put nipples and count our blessings, eh? I am glad we don't have them on our forehead as a species. Like an unwanted alarm of some sort. Just imagine it. You'd see this oddball guy staring at you with his forehead nipples hard as rocks and you wouldn't know if you ought to shit yourself and run for it or he had just had a fabulous toilet time.

[Speaking of foreheads, I wouldn't mind having one of those Jap boys sat on my face. Then again, they are in Japan, and my nipples presently napping inside my bra.]

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