The Power of Breasts

I have noticed more recently that men seem to have an attraction to breasts as if they were bright, shiny objects. I can hear several of you muttering now, "well, DUH!". And believe me, its not that I haven't noticed it before, but that I notice it more. Must be something in the air.

On a recent outing with my sister to a local hot spot (okay, so it was her 21st birthday and I wanted to get drunk!) I realized that as the weather is becoming warmer, the skimpier the clothing has become. I am not objecting to the clothing, cause god knows if I had some of the bodies these ladies had, I would be wearing as little as possible too.

Seeing as my sister is of the latter mentioned ladies, I was proud to pick her up for our night out and find her wearing practical jeans and a nice, fitted T-shirt, only showing a little midriff with her belly button ring poking out. I felt proud that I had helped my sister get to the age of 21 without mishap or arrests or lap dances for money. I beamed all the way to the club.

Our friends greeted us with drinks and shots, and I was proud once again that my sister was being responsible by pacing herself, drinking water between booze, and dancing with whoever asked and not being picky. After all, this was a girls night out, and a celebration to boot.

Now, my sister and I are both well endowed and on many occasion have had random drunken people ask, "Are those things real?" or "Are those things legal?" and my personal favorite, "Can I touch 'em?"

Umm, no, you pervert!

But a weird thing happened the minute my favorite bar tender pulled out a handful of beads...My sister was distracted by their bright colors, clinking sound and dangling appeal. Without hesitation, she stepped onto the bar, lifted her shirt, and shook "the girls". After that, I don't think she had to buy another drink for the rest of the night. The best thing was, she wasn't even drunk...

But it gets better. It seems that once a person has flashed their boobies, it seems easier the next time and even easier the time after that. Seeing as this was all in good innocent fun, and I, as the big sister, was there to protect her, I saw no harm in her having a good time and getting some mementos. She knew where her line was and she kept far from it....for the most part.

Later on in the evening a pair of attractive beachy looking fellows approached my sister, interested it seemed to "get to know her better." Protectively I watched from a distance as she chatted, smiled and flirted. I also noticed that about half way through the animated conversation, they could not keep their eyes above neck level. I considered make a sign for her to wear that would simply read, "I apologize if my tits are staring you in the eyes."

Moments later, my sister laughingly waves me over, and putting on a smile, my friends and I join her. She had a goofy grin on her face and she leans over to whisper, "These guys want to see "the girls". I think I should get something in return." she paused, takes a drag from her cigarette and tells me, "I'm gonna make them drop trowel." I shake my head, swearing that it would never happen. Two guys will not just drop their designer jeans to the sandy ground to see a set of tits!

Boy was I wrong.

After my sister made her preposition, I stood back in awe as these two, semi-respectable looking fellows unzipped their flies, undid the button, and stood proudly as their jeans puddled around their feet. My sister laughed in a very unlady like fashion while her friend stifled giggles. My sister had the power of boobs!

Sticking to her end of the agreement, she quickly raised her shirt, gave a little shake as the 2 drunk guys stood stupidly with their pants at their feet. I think I saw drool as these boys regress to the age of infancy. Man, some guys are hardcore.

While on the way home with my drunk sister in the passenger seat talking incessantly about nothing (as it often seems drunk people do!) she told me she had had the best time in her life with me that night. "You know, I have a theory after tonight." she says, as she rolls down the window for another smoke. "I think that if men had breasts they would never leave the house." I pause to consider this while changing lanes, and as she exhales in deep though, she tells me, "But, if they did have boobs, who would play with ours?"

She seemed serious about the question, and as I tried to formulate a 2nd grade answer for her current state, she moved on to another subject. I let her ramble as I drove, her moving from one subject to another, enjoy this time with her. Seeing as we were only a few years apart, it was nice to have her old enough to come out with me, have a good time, and get to know the "real world".

I dropped her off at home (and she surprisingly walked into the house herself) where she took off her shoes and her beads, made herself a sandwich and went to bed. On my way home I smiled, thinking about the great experience my sister had for a 21st birthday and proud to know she would remember it! I pulled into my drive way, shut off the engine and smiled.

I pulled a set of red plastic beads from under my shirt, over my head, and I proudly dangled them from my rear view mirror. I too, had the power of boobs.