Buxom

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Buxom: (adj) a woman with large breasts.

Prude or rude?

These appear to be the two choices offered to me every day.

I can take a path of believing that anything that sounds sexual or stimulates my temptations should be ignored or relegated to a private corner.

Or I can just pop off and use all the vernacular of present day society, acting like the free spirit, uninhibited to speak my mind.

We just don’t seem to have the ability to find better ways to share our thoughts.

So we end up looking on buxom women as if they are motherly, or else we proclaim them to have “big tits.”

Somewhere along the line we have completely lost the evolutionary meaning of women’s breasts. So some folks refuse to talk about them and other people giggle and ogle them.

What is the correct procedure?

It’s simple: it’s up to the person who has them.

If a woman is proud of her breasts, wants to talk about them and feels uplifted, so to speak, by others appreciating them, I think that’s just jim dandy.

If she’s embarrassed, tentative and uncertain about her bosom, I have absolutely no problem remaining silent and diverting my eyes.

Being a prude or being rude is a decision to make a decision for someone else. You are either communicating that they should be embarrassed by their buxom condition, or that they should be prepared to be leered at by every fellow who passes by.

We have no right to make decisions for other people.

It is our job to bounce off the desires that each person we meet may express, and honor his or her wishes.

In doing so, we actually begin to approach maturity.

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Bosom

Bosom: (n) a woman’s chest

Chuckles.Dictionary B

Yes, fond memories of giggling at church camp every time we sang the song, “Rock-a my soul in the bosom of Abraham.”

Three or four of us guys would purposely sing the word “bosom” louder–until a couple of the preachers would move to sit on our row, threatening us with some form of pending damnation.

I was so young that the mention of the word “bosom” could arouse my Southern Hemisphere. And I wasn’t even around girls who had bosoms. But I knew they were in training–bras, that is.

I also found myself staring at the full-fledged bosoms of women who were a little older, but not so old that you felt like a pervert thinking about them. I was twelve years old and I was under the spell of the bosom.

The female bosom is still a symbol of great passion, focus and exaggerated attention.

Maybe it’s because none of us were particularly ready to stop sucking on them when they stuck a bottle in our mouth.

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