Oh - PERFECT!
This topic, and 'how my obsession got started', are more or less the same...
First, rewind a few years. Say, somewhere in the 80's. Your intrepid writer (moi) is a high-school senior living somewhere in Southern Ontario, Canada. (eh!). On my way home one fine summer afternoon, I wander into the corner ShortStop, (A convienience store), looking for a nice cold beverage. I walk past the counter, past the aisles, to the back wall where the coolers are, turn the corner formed by one of the display racks...
...and see a rack of a whole other sort.
The shirt would have been relatively sedate - if not for the fact that the bodacious bottle-blonde wa crouched down on her haunches, getting a bottle from the lowest level of the cooler. Though I didn't realize it at the time, the chest-melons pracically bulging out the neck-line of the lavender shirt (becuase they were being pushed up by her KNEES!) were a gravity-defying, silicone-packed HHH-cup.
Startled, she suddenly stood bolt-upright, making those breasts of hers jiggle and bounce most intriguingly - and while I tried very hard to find a way to stare at her tits without looking like I was staring at her tits, this toned, tanned, slim-and-oh-so-stacked blonde appologized to ME for being 'in the way'!
WHOOMP! - I was hooked...
... and her ass, in a pair of tight jeans that emphasized a slender wiast as well, was pretty damned nice, too - just not anywhere close to how 'nice' those breasts were.
Now, that's not the end of the story. To pull a Paul Harvey, let's fast-forward a few years, until yours truly is of legal age. I happen to travel to a (relatively) nearby city, Guelph, and decide to drop in at it' sone strip-club, The Manor - solely for the great deal on their lunch menu, of course.
So, there I am, easting roast beef and **94** a Molson Canadian...
...and that blonde I'd sort of been fantasizing about since that summer day walks out on stage!
For the record, her 'nom de etage' is Bobbi the Body Beutiful - and she's a fantasic woman. Not only did she laugh at my story instead of me when I told it to her, she threw in a free lap-dance - while joking that it was as close to my fantasy as she was legally permitted to get during working hours...
I haven't been down that way for the better part of a decade now, so I don't know if she's still dancing there - but if she is, and you happen to be passing through Souther Ontario and spot a sign for Guelph, I'd most certainly recomend taking in the show at The Manor.
Gunny
(p.s. - How is American beer like having sex in a canoe...? It's fucking close to water! *Grin*)