First of all, I'd like everyone to know that this sighting would not have been if not for the wonderous musical performance of Weird Al Yankovic. I command all of you to go buy his shit. That being said, it was 2000. February. My mother, God Bless her, had bought me tickets to Weird Al's concert in Ames as my Christmas present. I was thrilled, to say the least. Now, while there, I sat next to a 17 year old little hotty (I was just 20 at the time) who let me play with her big old G cups. That's right, she wore a 38 G. Custom made at that wonderful shop down in Des Moines. It came up in conversation, cause she wasn't shy about them. She absolutely loved them. Oh, she was around 140 pounds, I'd say, and maybe five feet, four inches tall. She had lovely blue eyes and wore this really tight pink shirt... She was very friendly, and we both had a wonderful time, because I could pick her up and put her on my shoulders so she could see better, and we both sang off key with our favorite songs, etc. If only she could have stayed out later... *sigh* But, the REAL sighting was to be found AFTER the concert. I was on my way out, saying my goodbyes to the nice girl (who I never saw again... tear....) when I ran into a friend of mine. We exchanged hellos and hugs, and then she introduced me to her sister. Friends, I cannot impart to you properly how big her sister was. Let's start with the woman herself. Yes, she's a big girl. I'd say 250lbs. easy. But, 50 pounds of that, if not 100, was in her boobs! She was 5' 6" and wore a dress like Wen would wear from FDD, because that was the only thing that would fit over those tits! She was so big, from three children, that she had to walk with a cane! She couldn't support them by herself! Beachballs, ladies and gentlemen. I'm not kidding. They were the size of beachballs. Round, and heavy, hanging almost to her knees and sticking out almost as far. They were gigantic. At any rate, we went out to a the Boheme (not a place I frequent) and just as the bar was getting ready to close, Al and the band came in, so I got to shake his hand. I tried all night to get a better look at those tits, though. I even asked. She wasn't terribly shy about them, and the only comment I really remember was when I asked to touch them.
"Oh no," she said. "I never let anyone touch them. They're too sensative. They just make me cum."
I will NEVER forget that woman as long as I live. I was inches from them. Talking about them, staring without abandon or fear. It was the best night I can remember until I met my wife (who is currently breaking out of her F-Cups.). That's my story. I wish I had pictures (and maybe, I can ask my friend for some. I still see her sometimes.).