So Many Parameters - Custom Bras

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Woman recovers from poor sexual self-imagery
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XXscribbler
XXscribbler
310 Followers

Multiple Parameters

-or-

Custom Brassieres

A story by XXscribbler

Rhonda was a minor mystery to Kevin.

German by birth and education, she spoke English fluently but with the common Germanic problem of failure to handle well English's use of articles 'the' and 'a' -- and frequent imposition of German word-order within sentences.

Over the past few weeks they had met multiple times, for several hours at a stretch, always in her office or lab. She was an exceedingly bright scientist, and they got along famously at many levels simultaneously. For them both, rapid, multilevel repartee was a specialty, and rarely encountered: it led to ongoing friendly word-duels that each appreciated.

He did find her somewhat physically attractive -- at least in the abstract. He felt that she could have been much more so, but the possibility wasn't realized - she either affected gender neutrality quite effectively, or was genuinely so.

He wondered occasionally if she were gay, but it wasn't his business and it mattered not a bit. He would have thought it the height of impropriety to ask either her or others who might know.

But the physical parameters were okay - she was inches shorter than he --say, 5'5" - and twenty years younger, at thirty-six. Solidly muscular yes, but not aggressively so. She, like he, was an enthusiastic bicyclist, and beneath her uniformly loose-fitting lightweight trousers he could detect a solid, but not over-sized, Germanic butt and heavy-muscled thighs -- not all that different from himself.

Superficially she was quite plain but with a hint of real attractiveness whenever she relaxed and smiled. Square-jawed, with high, wide cheekbones, intense piercing pale-blue eyes, long brown hair, a snub nose and upper cheek that carried a minor splattering of small purple blotches, 'port-wine stain' birthmarks.

As they faced one another over a desk, or stood side-by-side at a work table, Kevin was occasionally aware that she was genuinely busty, but she dressed in oddball shapeless European-ish torso-underwear that seemed more a wrap than a bra, plus multiple over-layers: collectively, the clothing certainly subdued any shape her chest might have. For all his discreet studying there was never the slightest visible suggestion of a nipple-bump. His only clues were her overall body morph, plus the rare peep past the upper button of a blouse (often curiously undone!) to where a few square centimeters of flesh, the topmost edge of cleavage -- apparently significant cleavage -- were sometimes visible.

They had been working on a scientific paper since Monday -- it was now Thursday and they'd been facing one another across a light-table for most of the afternoon, discussing graphs and data. They made a great deal of eye-contact most of the time, and every once in a while he thought it carried --momentarily- a tiny male-female gleam, but it could easily have been his imagination, which was usually active when it came to women.

Utterly preoccupied, neither noticed the gradual departures of the other denizens. Nor did they register the fading-away of daylight. Then, abruptly, Rhonda jerked to attention, looked through the window at the fully-dark outer world and said in embarrassment "Oh, mein Gott!! Look at the hour, Kevin! Already dark it is, and it's supposedly about to be raining shortly. It is also the rush-hour. I'm sorry! Too deep it was, our concentration on the data!"

Kevin stared at the window, shrugged. He could manage and said so.

Rhonda wouldn't hear him: "KEVIN! NO! This is my fault and I cannot allow you to attempt to ride home in the rain in the dark and in rush hour all at once! Your forty minute ride will take at least two hours and be horribly dangerous. NO! Besides, I'm sure you do not have even any rain-cloak with you, am I right?"

He grinned, nodded. Seattle, in wintertime, on a bike, and sans rain gear -- simple idiocy!

She thought quickly: "Kevin, I have a plan. Let us ride together to my apartment -- it's only about five of your silly miles -- eight kilometers in REAL units, and it is all back streets, no heavy traffic. Even in the dark it is not so bad a ride. Then we can get some dinner -- I owe you a dinner anyhow, you know, and then afterwards we can put your bike on my car-rack and I will drive you home. We can turn my mistake into something nice and useful -- there is a lot more to talk about in these numbers! So many parameters to integrate for a final result!"

Kevin's own situational analysis was dominated by the same three factors -- traffic, dark, and wet -- so he agreed without argument.

Rhonda led -- she was as strong and fast as her butt and thighs suggested: he had to work hard to keep up, but it didn't turn into an impromptu race. Not quite.

One mile down and four to go, the rain started. Not gentle, and not light. Downpour. With thunder and lightning overhead. By the end of mile two, they were both drenched -- rain-gear wouldn't have made the slightest difference.

And at the half-way point, the sleet began -- sleet and light hail, and an almost twenty degree, instantaneous temperature drop, a quintessential summertime Midwestern thunderstorm, but in winter in Seattle. Unreal!

They wheeled their bikes into her apartment building, leaving trails of wet footprints: others had preceded them, so they didn't feel bad about the minor mess. Aboard the elevator they looked at themselves in the mirror-walls and laughed. Both were utterly soaked, chilled to the bone and shivering violently: she muttered "We look like a pair of drowned rats or something! An experience to remember!"

He held both bikes as she dug for her keys. She found them, looked at him and laughed again, said "Kevin, I think that what you need is a hot shower! Look how you shiver! I will insist -- you are cold and the building has a very large supply of hot water, almost infinite! My own apartment has a wonderful big shower, not one of those tight little European hotel things!"

She unlocked the door: they wheeled the bikes into her storage closet. She continued her thought: "While you shower I will put your clothes in my drying machine. You can wear one of my robes when you get out. While your clothes dry, we can have a glass of wine and then consider our options for dinner -- many restaurants are nearby."

Kevin grinned at her: "Wonderful idea, and thank you. But Rhonda, you are just as cold, and you're shivering just as much as I. The rain and hail weren't your fault, you know, so you needn't feel guilty. You need a hot shower, too -- and I'd feel a bit weird if I went first. Ladies are supposed to go first, aren't they?"

Then he laughed and said, being silly nothing more, "Perhaps we should be good ecologists and share the shower?! Save hot water that way!"

For several seconds she looked at him with an odd, intense stare, and finally spoke very softly: "That, my friend Kevin, would be a first for me. A completely unique, completely new experience."

He looked at her, his astonishment plain: "Really? You've never shared a shower with a man?" His gay-dar came on with a click -- but it didn't set off any buzzers. Puzzling.

She shook her head, her face turned slightly pink, but she didn't avoid his gaze. "Never. I have never had the opportunity. Such a thing would, of course, be an interesting experiment... but I'm very much afraid that you wouldn't like what you see if we were to do that."

He looked puzzled, managed to ask "Whatever do you mean?"

She sighed a long, deep exhalation, steeled herself visibly: "Kevin, when I am naked -- and I assume we would have to be naked for taking together a hot shower, no? -- well, to be blunt, my body is simply not very attractive. I have breasts that are much too big, and loose and sloppy and shapeless. They might be attractive if they were much more solid and stood up, but they do not. And I have an enormous ass and big thighs. I am not an attractive woman, this I know."

Kevin snorted his upset: she looked startled at the reaction. "Rhonda, that's simply a very SILLY self-evaluation! And totally inaccurate, too! I'll bet that like most women you haven't any idea at all what you really look like in the nude -- and that you certainly don't have a good idea what men might find attractive in a female body."

He paused, she cocked a quizzical eye at him, and he continued. "Just from what little I can see through your clothes, you have breasts that nicely counterbalance your bottom. Yes, you -- and I also! -- have a solid muscular butt and heavy leg muscles. But who ever said such an arrangement couldn't be extremely attractive? And frankly, Madame, what appeals to ME about boobs is their sensitivity to touch -- firmness and texture and size and shape are all secondary and unimportant and I have never, EVER worried about such stuff. So long as the nerves work to give pleasure, then all is beautiful."

After a long, thoughtful pause, she said "Thank you. You are very... I think the word is 'gallant'? I find it quite difficult to believe that someone such as yourself might find my body interesting, much less exciting, but thank you anyhow!"

She went inside herself again for a few seconds: then, "Kevin, you have been very discreet about looking at me, at my body. Of course I noticed when you did, but I found it oddly pleasant since you did not do it openly or rudely, and since you made no comments out loud."

"By now most people would have asked me, usually indirectly, about my sexual orientation -- but you have not and I doubt you ever would do so. It does not seem to be important to you, and I find that refreshing. Are we to be friends close enough to hold back nothing from one another?"

She looked at him with a cool, appraising eye, waiting.

His turn.

"Your orientation is certainly none of my business and doesn't affect our professional relationship in the least. Nor does it affect our personal relationship! If you would like to be friends on the "nothing held back" level, then so would I."

xxx

She nodded, grinned wryly, and said "Good, then! Kevin, I shall tell you some things about myself. You knowing these things may help us both in this showering situation! I have not had the opportunity for such a shower simply because no man has ever asked me to shower with him."

"In fact, to be completely honest, I have been on not very many dates. All my life, the few men who have asked, well, they have always been put off somehow, because there have been even fewer second, and no third, dates. So therefore I have never developed such a relationship in which that might occur."

"In fact..." she eyed him appraisingly, "I do find myself amazed how far we seem to have come, you and I, and in such a short time. We have never had a date, just many hours of working together -- yet here we are in this situation, in this conversation!! It is very odd, no?"

Kevin looked at her with frank amazement for some seconds, then finally managed to say "I am utterly flummoxed! You are a wonderfully articulate, intelligent, and attractive woman." He tried the remnants of his ancient high-school German: "Ich kann das nichts verstehen! Which means, among other things 'ODD, yes, the immediate situation!'"

"But I like your company and think you are attractive, and am quite happy to be here with you, contemplating being naked together. Even if it's just for a shower!"

She shrugged: "Kevin, my situation is really not so odd, I believe. Men do not seem to like highly intelligent, highly educated women. All my life I have been much smarter..." She paused, then said vehemently "VERY much smarter, than the male humans around me. That is NOT my being conceited, it is simply fact! And in kindergarten and grade school and high school and university, always and everywhere, they all come to know it immediately and they are either intimidated or disgusted or threatened, or all those things at once, and that is immediately the end of any such possibility."

She continued: "And there are some other things about me as well, but perhaps those we save for later? Anyhow, Kevin, I am not at all a lesbian, which is something most men -- and most women too -- assume at once about me. That may be a good thing, especially the men -- it deters them from making either comments or advances."

" As you see, I am captured within a two-sided problem -- I would LIKE --at least so I believe -- to do dating, to have one or many romantic heterosexual relationships, but I also am happy to have most men think I am not worth approaching. I think it is a sort of your literature's "Catch-22" is it not?"

"Anyhow, Kevin, I have my sexual imaginings and interests just as do we all, and they have always been completely focused on men. Not at all on women. Also like every human being, I masturbate. A lot, in fact. And for every orgasm I have ever given myself, the imaginings are always of men."

"It is just that I have throughout my whole life lacked any opportunity to explore them -- to explore the imaginings. In fact, I quite some time ago gave up worrying about it."

She shrugged resignedly, then smiled up at him: "There. Nothing held back! Now you know why no showers with male friends!"

Kevin nodded gently several times: "I believe I understand." He looked at her, head cocked sideways: "Would I be out of line to propose a small experiment? Namely that we really DO share your shower? Nobody needs to go first, that way. Would you mind having me actually see you in the nude? Or mind having me be likewise naked right there beside you?"

He grinned at her, a boyish but sexual near-leer that intrigued her mightily, then continued "I should very much like to see you naked, and things need not go any farther than that. I will promise so, if you wish -- but the showering together would be an interesting experiment! Of course, with your permission, I might volunteer, say, to wash your back, or even to shampoo your hair. I like doing those things in a shower with a woman!"

She looked at him without a word for long enough to make him nervous. Then, suddenly, she went from serious to laughing, shrugged, and said "A lovely experiment!"

In ten seconds she was naked, facing him almost defiantly, hands on hips, her eyes asking.

His expression told her with exquisite clarity and intensity just how much he DID like her body. She could see his hugely dilated pupils as he scanned her -- an utterly un-fake-able, unconscious bodily reaction to something deeply desirable at a gut level.

As she'd claimed, her breasts were indeed quite large, soft, and deeply hanging -- although not nearly as much so as she believed. They mounted amazingly large nipples, considering that they'd never made themselves the least bit visible in the lab up to then. But then, in the matter of nipple-erections, icy-cold rain always helped!

She watched his eyes fixate momentarily on her boobs as she crossed her arms beneath them, raised them up slightly as if in offering to him: "Now you can see for yourself what I mean! Is it not clear? They need help if they are not to just lie down! No candidate for Playboy Bunny in this shower right now! Even brassieres don't give much help, so I seldom wear them. There is no point."

She looked down at her chest, smiled silently to herself and then at him, freed her breasts to flatten completely under gravity's tug, then tapped both nipples with her fingertips and laughed: "Actually, no POINTS to it!"

Kevin looked her squarely in the eyes and said, carefully, "Your body is magnificent. That includes your breasts. There are advantages to softness -- soft is MUCH more sensual than Playmate-hard, believe me! May I propose a little test? A demonstration? It involves a certain amount of touching, but nothing dramatic. Permission?"

She studied his face -- he was concentrating on her eyes, not looking anywhere else -- it was almost hypnotic. And it was nice that it was the eyes, not some more obviously sexual aspect of her body. It was as if they were trying to make some sort of soul-to-soul contact. And succeeding!

She was certain that it would be okay to give him permission, and she was intensely curious. She nodded.

He reached - oh, so slowly! - for the near-side breast, let his fingertips stroke the nipple. She shuddered at the electricity that snapped from nipple to brain. As goosebumps carpeted her arms, his eyes widened, he smiled broadly -- obviously, he KNEW what was happening inside her head!

He stroked with his thumb. More lightning.

He tilted his head: "All your boobs' systems seem to be in working order. We need a bit more testing to confirm it, however."

He bent his head, moved in what seemed like the slowest of slow-motion - so slowly, and with such obvious intent, that she watched herself internally with total surprise at both her own eagerness for the eventual touch, and her dismay at the glacial pace of his advance.

He leaned down, gently landed his warm mouth and inhaled a nipple, suckled, released long enough to say "Try THIS with a Playmate-tit!" and returned to suckling, shifting to the other breast.

Her belly turned to water and she almost collapsed as her knees did likewise.

He read her reactions well, released the nipple at the perfect moment, stood, and said quietly "Lovely boobs, nipples, butt, hips, belly, pussy, legs -- everything nicely integrated into a wonderful whole! You have a very fine body, Rhonda. It is extremely sensual, and decidedly sexually attractive. I like it very much, especially the fact that you are completely shaved below the neck. I like the cleanness. I find it extremely sexy. But it's not overly common. A pity! Sometime you will have to explain that to me!"

He took a half-step backwards, said "We need to keep things even, to maintain parity, don't you think?" and shucked himself out of his clothes as rapidly as she had: their combined pile was impressive, and actively oozing rainwater onto the tile floor.

He stood there for her inspection.

While she eyed him, he returned the favor and told her "Rhonda, however much you may hide your body under your clothes, when you are naked like this you are GORGEOUS! At least an eight or nine on a scale of ten. Plus - a properly shaved woman's body is my personal topmost sexually exciting item. And if you don't believe me, you might notice that I, too, am shaved, like you!"

His genuinely spectacular hard-on was now on blatant display, standing up proudly, free, and bobbing gently with his pulse.

Pink from his compliments, she stared at his groin, then giggled, very uncharacteristically girlishly: "It may perhaps seem odd to you, Kevin, but your PUBIC-SHAVE is NOT the exact thing I am most noticing at this very moment!"

He grinned, not the least bit embarrassed, made his cock jump several times just to show off, and asked, "Satisfy my curiosity, please. Why are you shaved?"

She shrugged, which made her breasts wobble- and that changed Kevin's expression in an exceptionally nice way. "Back when I had only twelve years, I entered puberty very abruptly. My breasts changed so fast from nothing whatever to what you see today! It seemed to happen overnight, and in reality it took much less than a year -- they grew so fast that my parents sent me to the doctor to check for a pituitary cancer, but nothing was found."

"Anyway, I was also of course beginning to grow hair on my body. My girlfriends and I used to spend our free summer-time at the nudist beach on the river. All the women there were shaved completely, like this, and so were many of the men. We all imitated them, just to fit in and not be unusual. To avoid being stared at."

"I did not like what my body was doing, but the only thing I could control was the hair, by shaving. And the breasts I could hide when we were away from the beach. I soon found that I liked the smoothness and did not think the sudden growth of all that hair to be very attractive. The opposite, really. I have maintained the shaving as a habit. As you can see!"

XXscribbler
XXscribbler
310 Followers