It was such a burden being a girl with huge tits. Everywhere she went, her fuckbags bulging beneath her clothes, Emelia would feel guilty, feel that she was a whorish cow masquerading as a person. Nice girls didn’t have huge sex-udders. Nice girls didn’t think about how slutty their tits were constantly, all day, their pussies getting wetter the longer people stared at them.
So when the men cornered her in the stairwell of her flats, crowding around her threateningly, laughing, and told her to pull down her dress and show them her tits, she felt oddly relieved, to at last acknowledge what she was and stop pretending.
And when they told she’d best keep her fuckbags visible, because if they ever caught her in these flats with them covered she’d regret it, she felt a great weight lift off her, because now she had a permission to just admit what a big-uddered fuckdoll she was and go around with her boobs on display…
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