I was never a breast man, until I met Frankie.
Actually, her name was Francis. We worked in the same building, and saw each other frequently in the cafeteria. She was ten years older than me, and attractive. About 5'4", maybe 130#, I know what you're thinking.
'That's a bit on the chunky side'.
Not when she has a rack the size of these. She was definitely out of proportion, thought not what some would called 'disfigured'. She would probably be 110# or less if more properly proportioned.
She was an office manager, and dressed professionally. Not as to overtly conceal her buxom qualities, though she hardly dressed to accentuate them. I caught her a few times looking at my ass in the cafeteria (the only place we ever saw each other), but she would immediately turn a sour expression and look away when I caught her.
On one occasion though, I caught her staring, but didn't she didn't catch me, so I blurted out "I'll let you touch it if you want".
She smiled nervously, eyes wide opened knowing she had been _seriously_ bagged, went-flush and turned away.
I caught up to her as she was leaving the cafeteria, introduced myself, and asked her out.
We got along pretty well, and after a couple weeks/three or four dates, we were at her apartment, and she initiated by unzipping my fly and giving me head. Other than a good night kiss, this was the first intimate contact we had. It turned out she _loved_ giving head, and in the ensuing relationship would do it without any prompting whatsoever, often without any other foreplay. I ended up nicknaming her frankie, to which she would respond by batting her eyes shyly and turning the ends of her mouth in a subtle smile that noted sincere affection.
Her breasts were magnificent. The first time she got naked, she took off her bra and that set of 44DDs barely flinched. They were completely natural, full, and firm. She was 40 years old, and they were as firm as any 20 year old I had ever been with, and more than twice as large. At that moment, I became very appreciative of breasts, and have not looked at a buxom woman the same way since. She loved sex and liked riding on top. She was an attractive woman, with large beautiful breasts, and having her riding me was a sight I shall cherish to my grave.
The relationship didn't last but 4 months or so. She ended up meeting someone else. We weren't in love, although I was upset in getting dumped for someone else. We parted amicably, and were still friendly after that at work. She was good that way. She was a genuinely nice honest woman, hadn't deceived me, cheated or lead me on, and I really couldn't be angry with her. It was what it was, and it was good.
She did end up marrying with the guy she met. I ran into her years later at a grocery store, I was married and had my then 3-year-old daughter with me. We chatted for a while, talked about past co-workers, what each other was doing now (then), until my daughter got too restless.
As we were leaving the store, my daughter asked "daddy, was that lady your friend"
I replied "yes sweetie, she's my friend"