tagFetishBooby Trap

Booby Trap


The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

This story is set in the 1960s.


I like big breasts. Since I was adult I was attracted to big women with large breasts but my lack of height made me an unlikely boyfriend for any woman who had them. Most of my friends knew I was a breast man and some of them used to tease me about it. Some of my women friends would use almost any excuse to press their clothed breasts against me, just to watch me squirm with embarrassment. There was no malice, just sexual horseplay.

In the mid 1960s a broken bra strap changed my life. I was with friends from our local technical college walking group on a Boxing Day outing. We had planned to walk from a rural railway station to a country public house. We would have a seasonal lunch there and walk back to another station.

We arrived in a four-coach diesel train. Unusually for the group it would be a short walk each way, only about ten miles in total. The limited daylight was the excuse. The reality was that we expected to have a very good meal and get close to being drunk before the walk back. There were rude comments about my short legs as we made our way along muddy footpaths with ice-covered puddles. I might have had short legs but I was wearing wellington boots. My feet stayed dry unlike some who were wearing short hiking boots.

There were about twenty of us. It was not our normal group because only students who lived close to the college had come. I noticed Sarah particularly. She was wearing a brown cord maxi skirt over her jeans and calf length boots. Although she had been on walks with us before she was usually with her friends. This time she was alone.

Why had I noticed Sarah? She was tall and had the largest breasts I had ever seen. Sarah knew I liked breasts. She sometimes teased me that all I saw of her were her breasts. It was almost true. If she was close to me I would have to tilt my head back to look into her face. Even in her winter clothing her bust was prominent. Alan suggested that if it started to rain I could take shelter under Sarah's breasts. She laughed at us. I wasn't not quite as short-arsed as that. If I had stood in front of Sarah my eyes would have been just above the level of her cleavage. Sarah was large, tall but not overweight for her height, except for her breasts which were very large even for her build.

Until this walk I had rarely talked to Sarah one to one. We had usually met in a group with mutual friends. We knew of each other and basic information such as where we lived. I had seen her on the walks and on the campus. She was at the teachers' training college. I was at the engineering college that shared the same campus. The two colleges were small enough and shared some facilities so we knew each other well enough to wave and say hello.

In the pub the seasonal meal was as great as we expected, perhaps even better. We had ordered it weeks ago and we were the only customers. We had visited this pub several times in the warmer months when it was busy. After the meal we were gathered around the open log fire drinking more than we should. Alcohol can cause body temperature to fall if the weather is cold. We might be walking back as it turned frosty.

Then it happened. Sarah came back from the toilet. Her coat had slipped onto the floor. She reached down to pick it up and her bra strap broke.

"Shit!" Sarah said.

She felt under her sweatshirt at the back.

"Damn! It's broken." She added.

"What has?" Mary asked.

"My bra strap. Have you got a safety pin? I can't walk with one tit flopping."

Mary shook her head.

"I have," I said.

"Have what, Geoff?" Sarah asked.

"A safety pin. That's what you want, isn't it, Sarah?"

One thing led to another. A few minutes later Sarah and I were in one of the private cubicles as she tried to fix her bra strap at the back with a safety pin. She was finding it almost impossible. She had to hold her heavy breast up with one hand while trying to attach the safety pin with the other.

She didn't want to but eventually she let me fasten her bra strap with the safety pin. She supported her breasts with crossed arms. I used two pins because I thought one wouldn't take the considerable strain. Her bra was a boulder holder. The wide strap had obviously been failing for some time before it detached.

"Keep still, Sarah, please," I asked.

I used the needle and thread I kept with the safety pins to make a stronger mend. Sarah eased her breast back into the bra.

"Thank you, Geoff," she said. "That feels secure enough until I get home. How can I thank you? I know..."

She grabbed my head and pulled it into her cleavage. My head sank into her sweatshirt deeper than I had thought possible.

"Wow!" I said as she released me.

Sarah giggled. "Wow is good, Geoff. Thank you for helping and being a gentleman while you did. Some might have taken advantage and grabbed a tit. I know you like breasts but you behaved. You did what was necessary and no more. Thanks."

We walked back to the main room. Sarah had an arm around my shoulder. Only Mary noticed our return.

"Put him back," Mary said with a grin. "Geoff's not large enough for you, Sarah."

"I don't think I will," Sarah retorted. "He might be small. I know he likes my boobies but he's a good one."

"You're right. He is." Mary replied.

A week ago I had sorted out a problem with Mary's car. It hadn't been difficult, just long-winded. She repaid me with a meal and briefly hugged my head against her breasts . Nothing else happened. Mary had only needed my car maintenance skills because her boyfriend Alan had been away for a few days.


When we left the pub Sarah walked beside me. I extended a hand. She took it. We had some odd looks from some of the group but it felt right for us. When we reached the railway station we had to stand on the icy platform. The only building was a tiny ticket hut which was closed and shuttered. After about quarter of an hour we heard a whistle in the distance. An ancient steam tank engine wheezed into the platform pulling two even older coaches. We climbed in. As the train pulled away it was soon obvious that the heating wasn't working. We were cold from the walk, cold from standing on the platform, and cold on the train.

I was shivering as I sat beside Sarah. She pulled me beside her.

"Cold, Geoff?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "I think I drank too much."

I had drunk three pints and two double scotches. At my size that had affected me more than someone larger.

Sarah picked me up bodily and dumped me on her skirted lap. I might have objected. Her kiss stifled any protest I might have made. She opened the front of her coat before she wrapped it around me. My head was against her shoulder. Her arms held her coat around me.

"Sometimes there are advantages to being large," Sarah said. "I rarely feel cold. Just relax and I'll warm you up. You might enjoy it."

I was very aware of a large soft breast against my chest. I could feel the warmth of Sarah's body through her sweatshirt. If there had been anyone else in this part of the carriage all they might have seen of me would have been my boots in the folds of Sarah's skirt. As the train rattled slowly along I was almost asleep in Sarah's embrace, and she was right. I did enjoy it.

The branch train shuddered to a halt at the junction. Sarah unwrapped me. We changed trains to the main line connection on the opposite platform. This train had modern warm carriages. I sat next to Sarah again feeling warm, rested, and grateful. We talked for the half hour it took to reach our home town. We were surprised just how much we had in common and that our attitudes to many subjects were similar.

As we got off the train I asked.

"Can I see you again, Sarah?"

"You mean you are asking me for a date, Geoff?"

"Yes. I suppose I am."

"How about now?"


"We're going back to our flats, both of us, aren't we? Almost everyone else is going home to their parents. Mine are away visiting my sister and her new baby. Yours are abroad, aren't they?"

"Yes, Sarah, they are."

"Then why not? We're both alone on Boxing Day. Why not be alone, together, in my flat? I have a casserole ready to go that could be a meal for two."

"I would be delighted but I'll have to change first, Sarah. I don't think muddy jeans and wellingtons are appropriate wear."

Sarah looked at me. I had mud splashes well above my knees. She pulled at her skirt. The hem was mud-spattered.

"OK. But casual wear will do. Half an hour?"

"Half an hour it is."

Sarah gave me a hug as I left her outside her flat to walk the hundred yards to mine. I fed the gas meter with enough coins for a quick shower. My hair was still damp as I rang her door bell but I was clean, dry and comfortable. Sarah opened the door with a towel wrapped around her head. She was wearing another sweatshirt over a dark red skirt.

"Oh. You showered too, Geoff. I was just about to use the hairdryer."

She sat on the settee drying her hair. I helped by directing the warm air at the back of her head. She brushed and combed her hair.

"Your hair is still damp," Sarah said. "Come here."

She spread the towel across her lap. Before I knew what she intended she had pulled me on to the settee and pushed me face down on to the towel. She dried and combed my hair. It took less than a minute because my hair was short back and sides. She pulled me back upright.

"Sorry, Geoff," she said. "I should have asked you first before hauling you about."

"Did you hear me object?"

Sarah hugged me.

"No. I didn't. Why not?"

"Why should I? I helped you dry your hair. You dried mine."

"But I have been grabbing you all day, Geoff."

"You warmed me up in the train. You've hugged me. Why should I complain?"

Sarah sighed.

"I suppose it's because you're so different, Geoff."

"Different?" I queried.

"My last boyfriend was Stuart. You know him."

I did. He was the largest member of the college's rugby team. Sometimes I played hooker for them. Stuart was massive, the largest and heaviest team member.


"Stuart didn't ask me what I wanted. He just grabbed me and wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."

I could sense that there was much more behind Sarah's statement.

"I couldn't do that," I said.

"I know. But I could - to you. I don't know whether it's because you're so small that I wanted you. I do, Geoff. We may be very different sizes. I don't think that matters as much as I know you're a nice bloke. Repairing Mary's car last week was an example. You're not her boyfriend. Alan is. Yet you sorted her car out for her."

"Alan would have done it if he'd been there, Sarah."

"But you're not Alan."

I looked at Sarah.

"Alan is my friend. Mary's my friend. Why shouldn't I do something simple for Mary when Alan wasn't there? Alan won't mind."

"I know. Alan doesn't think of you as a threat to his relationship with Mary, does he?"

It was my turn to sigh.

"No one does, Sarah. None of the men see me as a threat, not even when their girlfriends breast-smother me. None of the women see me as a potential partner. I'm just short-arsed Geoff, the person everyone looks past - or over my head. A couple of the women are close to my height until they wear heels. Then I'm the shortest at the college."

"And I'm nearly the tallest, and certainly the largest woman. Men ignore me too - except for my breasts. I know you like them. That reminds me. I need to mend that bra. It should go in the wash tomorrow. I shouldn't have worn it today but the bra I had intended to wear was still drying. Do you mind if I put a few stitches in it?"

"Of course not."

"Some men get twitchy if women's underwear is around them."

"I don't. Why should I? I have three older sisters. I grew up with underwear all over the house."

Sarah stood up, opened a drawer and took out a small box of sewing items. She put it down on the coffee table in front of us. She walked into her bedroom and came back with the bra. She sat down again, reached for the sewing box and her hand stopped in mid-air.

"Geoff! These safety pins aren't doing anything. You sewed up the strap in the pub."

"I thought they wouldn't hold on their own, so I added a few stitches, Sarah."

"A few stitches! I thought you were slow using the pins. I didn't realise you were sewing. This is better repaired than I could do, and you did it while I was wearing the bra. How?"

"I just told you I had three older sisters. They and my mother taught me how to sew and sometimes I had to help get them ready for dances. I'm happier repairing cars but I can sew by hand or with a machine."

"I didn't realise I had invited a multi-talented man for an evening meal, Geoff. I suppose you can cook too?"

I nodded.

"A man who can repair cars and bras, can cook, and doesn't grab my tits when he has the opportunity? I think I want you as my boyfriend, Geoff."

"Did you want me to grab your tits, Sarah? Were you disappointed?"

"I think you would find them a handful. Or more than a handful. Compared with your hands they're massive. Look."

Sarah held up the repaired bra by the straps. The cups were still showing the curve of her breasts.

"I wonder," Sarah said slowly.

She turned towards me still holding the bra.

"I know my breasts are large and you are smaller than me, but this looks as if just one of my breasts is larger than your head."

"It probably is," I said, "I haven't seen your breasts so I don't know. What I do know is that when you hugged me in the pub I thought I was disappearing between them. I like breasts, and yours are wonderful."

"There's an easy way to find out..."

Sarah flipped the bra cup across my face. She tightened it around my head with one hand and pulled me backwards on to her lap. Her other arm pressed against my chest. My arms flapped as I tried to sit back up. It was useless. I had no leverage against her. She bent forward. Her large breasts pressed on my face. I was smothered underneath them, gagged and blindfolded inside her bra cup, breathing her subtle perfume and her victim.

Sarah's bra and breasts had trapped me in a helpless position. She held me like that for about thirty seconds before lifting her breasts, moving her arm off my body, and removing the bra cup. My head was still resting on her lap. Both of us were breathing hard.

"I'd better see how the casserole is getting on," Sarah said.

What wasn't said that we had gone too far too soon in a very new relationship. We were embarrassed. For the rest of the evening we sat side by side and talked. When I finally left Sarah kissed me slowly. I invited her for an evening meal at my flat in two evenings' time.


Over the next few weeks we saw each other frequently. We went to events together and ate meals in alternate homes. It was obvious that I enjoyed Sarah's massive breasts and she liked squashing my head against them. She had looked and a hand had checked the bulge in my trousers that her breasts produced. I wasn't large down there but bigger than might be expected from someone as small as me. I was often sitting on her lap so we could kiss more easily. She treated me as a small but adult male. We were beginning to respect each other's intelligence and understanding.

I had asked, and Sarah had agreed, to be my partner at the college's Valentine Dance. I would wear my evening suit. Sarah's full skirted gown led to more intimacy between us. She wanted to wear it but it was sleeveless and showed more cleavage than she wanted. In mid-February she would want some covering across her shoulders. We spent some hours at her sewing machine making a short three-quarter sleeved jacket in matching stretchy material. Originally we had intended that it should have several large buttons at the front. Before we made the button holes she tried it on. It would be straining at the buttons so we changed it to a front zip.

Our friends had seen what was obvious to them if not yet to us. Sarah and Geoff were together. The jokes about the disparity in our sizes had stopped. They just accepted us as a couple, an odd couple perhaps, but two people in love with each other.

Looking back, that Valentine dance was when Sarah and I admitted what our friends had already seen. We were girlfriend and boyfriend and very much in love with each other. I didn't actually propose to Sarah until late May but Valentine's Day was the date on which we decided we were a pair.

I hadn't seen Sarah wearing that gown with the jacket until I collected her for the dance. We would be walking the several hundred yards to the venue. She had covered herself with a large black hooded cloak. I was wearing a dark grey raincoat. We held hands as we walked together. I was swamped several times by the folds of her cloak. It was held out by the immensity of her skirts.

Underneath them she was wearing a six-hooped petticoat. When we left her cloak and my coat in the cloakroom Sarah looked magnificent. Her wide spreading skirts could only be worn by someone as tall as she was. Her tight bodice above the swell of the skirt made her look slimmer than she actually was. She was massive. I looked ridiculously small beside her.

We danced together all evening. In the more energetic dances I was in danger of being swept off my feet by her swirling skirts. In the slow numbers? My head was at the level of her cleavage because she was wearing high heels. In a dark corner of the dance floor she pulled my head against her short jacket. My face sank deep between her breasts, so deep that I thought I felt her breasts closing around the back of my head. I was slightly disappointed that she kept that jacket on all evening. I would have liked to be closer to bare cleavage.

At the end of the evening the lights were turned down low. For one slow dance Sarah picked me up, spread my legs around her waist, and perched me on the dome of her skirt. I could feel the bump of her small purse in a pocket in the skirt. Like that we could kiss, and did. If anyone had seen us they might have thought my position ridiculous. It probably was. I didn't care. I was close to the woman I loved, in her arms, and we were kissing. Anything else was irrelevant.

After the dance, just as we left the lighted foyer to walk back to her flat, Sarah suddenly picked me up again. She put me back on her domed skirt before flipping her black cloak around me. She pulled the large hood up. My head was beside hers inside that hood. I had disappeared completely inside Sarah's cloak. I nibbled her ear. She pulled the hood closer around us until my head was just a bulge at the side. I was breathing her perfume on her hair. I was close as I could be to her while we were still clothed. She carried me all the way into her flat.

When we had discussed the Valentine Dance event Sarah had told me that I would be staying the night with her. I had brought an overnight bag including a change of clothes for tomorrow. She had been very direct. She was on the pill. I wouldn't need condoms but using one might be safer. Wrapped closely inside her cloak I was getting excited at the prospect of a night with Sarah. Until now all we had done was kiss and cuddle. I had come in contact with her clothed breasts several times. Would I meet them naked tonight?

In the living room Sarah took her cloak off us. I blinked in the sudden light after the complete darkness inside her hood. She put me down. I took my coat off.

"And your jacket, Geoff," Sarah said.

She hung her cloak and my coat in the hall cupboard. She put my jacket on a hanger before hooking it on the cupboard's handle.

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