The Breast Views Blog: Year End Breast Overview
On my last day in India, after 6 weeks of way too much attention, I flipped my lid. Dressed in the baggest, camouflage get up imaginable, I wandered into a market place. People milled about while I carefully and mindfully made my way along the aisles.
Then it happened. Out of nowhere, a male hand firmly clenched my right breast. Given the number of assaults my pups had survived on an hourly basis, and the level of fury that had grown and boiled inside me, my reflex kicked in with the speed of a bullet. I grabbed the hand still on my breast and with ruthless glee, drove my thumb nail into the soft flesh. Skin broke and blood appeared, but I remained clenched. Not until the mans face, distorted in pain, broke into my sight line did I relent, flinging his hand so hard that he slapped his own face.
It was definitely time to go home.
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