17 Şubat 2021

Meeting Miriam The Seamtress

Lesbian

This is Miss Syreata again! I guess the Amber Rose Story didn’t go over so well, huh? I’ll admit that I’m not the best storyteller in the world. So that means I should give up, right? Not a chance. Truth is, the story I wrote was rushed because I had another story that I had already written.

It’s a long story about how I rekindled my relationship with my first love. Her name is Reneé. Long story short, she’s a married woman who after one weekend (Oct. 16th-18th), we became lovers again and she’s not with her husband anymore. Sounds juicy, right? So the obvious question is why didn’t you submit it?

Well, it would have broken Literotica’s rules. Our history goes back a long way and though I’m far from ashamed of that it’s way too controversial to post on here. I didn’t want that to take away from our story. I am glad for those who read my Amber story even if it’s not the best written and I want constructive feedback.

So this story is one that happened before our relationship. Therefore the thoughts that are articulated in here are my thoughts at that time. Also before I get into the meat of the story I have to go back a few weeks. Here is the story. I hope you enjoy reading this as I did experiencing it because I’ll never look at custom made bra fitting the same.

Saturday, August 8th (1:30pm):

I hate working on Saturday s. As a librarian, I do a lot of executive work rather than grunt work. I was the only official librarian working that day along with two librarian assistants, Nicole and Sophia. All of the librarians and assistants are females. The reason why I am a librarian is because I finished college while the assistants are still in college, mostly in their senior year. I am the youngest librarian in the entire county branch.

I’m proud of this because I have to be responsible as an example to the assistants even though all of them except one of them (Alicia) are older than me. I have to be on point with my shit because of my age. I have to prove myself every day. It was a busy day. I had to catalogue and order new books. Urban Fiction is the most popular books in both city libraries. I also ordered new DVDs and on top of that, make sure that the patrons get their time on the public computers as well as help the assistants with things that needed to be catalogued or were brought in from patrons.

One thing I can say though is that we have lots of fun. It’s actually a very lively library. Not that quiet at all. Sophia and Nicole are my favorite assistants along with Brandy, a pretty full-figured married white woman in her 30s with a teenage daughter who is going to college. She had the weekend off. Nicole is also in her 30s who favors facially J.Lo. Yep, she’s Puerto Rican. She doesn’t have Jennifer’s booty though. She has a nice shape-I love her hips-especially for having 3 kids. She’s 5’5 about 155 lbs.

As for Sophia, she’s the one I get along most with. She’s 5’8″ about 190 pounds with dark brown skinned who is in her late 20s. She has a young daughter. She’s very pretty with a great smile and a cute shape. Nice long legs. Neither one of them is busty. In fact, I’m the “Token Busty Girl” of the library. This is normally the case wherever I work at. Just like where I worked at when I met Marisol when I just 18.

Not only this, since I’ve been working at this city branch I have seen hundreds of patrons and I have not once seen a woman as big as me. The only time a woman bigger than me came in here was a County Freeholder. It was April 4th in celebration of our 3rd anniversary. She was elected last November and was there along with the other freeholders. She was HUGE. I tried to keep my composure and be professional.

She had dark brown hair, was about 5’10” and maybe 300 lbs. I guesstimate that she wore a 42KK and was wearing the hell out of her custom made green suit jacket. I talked to her for a little bit enough to know that she was married in her mid-40s with a daughter and son both in high school. All of the freeholders were cool. It was fun mainly because we were able to serve the public with more than just books. We fed them and many of the patrons that come in here are down on their luck. Some are even homeless. So it was great to do something for the community in that way.

Sorry to go off into a tangent. I do that sometimes. Anyway, back to August 8th, everything was busy like I said. I was a little pissed because I was wearing an ill-fitting bra. Yep, ‘my girls’ have grown a bit. Whenever I gain weight, I carry some of it in my chest. It’s a family trait on my maternal side.

I kept adjusting my 32LL bra all day. My band and straps was too tight so I was adjusting it and the cups were too small so that made it worse. My slightly splayed–when I am not wearing a bra that fits my breast shape–pendulous boobs were spilling out from the sides as well a bit from the top of the cups. I have to get my bras custom made even if I “sister bahis firmaları size down” cups sizes and go up band sizes the fit is all wrong.

For example: Freya, Fantasie, Goddess, Panache, Elomi, Curvy Kate, Parfait goes up to a K cup but all of them have different fits as far as cup and band width and even if the cup run big they aren’t fitting me now. The Bravissimo Alana goes up to L cups but they fit small too. Even if I “sister size down”, to say a KK or K, and I tried them, they don’t fit either. “Side-boob” is usually the issue for me.

Then you have The Ewa Michalak that also goes as high up to L cups, especially in smaller band sizes (they use the metric system unlike UK and the US). However, they fit smaller than what their cup size implies for my breasts. And I don’t like their padded bra in those sizes either. Not even my favorite brand, the Elila Jacquard which also sizes up to L Cups weren’t fitting me. *frown*

I tried them all, except Jeunique. I don’t know I haven’t with Jeunique why to be honest because I heard good things about them. Especially how they project your breasts in a bra and they are larger than even UK cup sizing which is what I use when talking about bra cup sizes. Anyway, though I think Panache are the best fit for me when they fit, it’s better to get my bras custom made with the ability to use “sister sized” bras like as an example, wearing a Panache Tango II 40JJ which because of the underwire fit.

For what it was worth, it was embarrassing to be adjusting my bra all day at work. I knew patrons were looking at me thinking, WTF is this chick all up in her boobs. It was really uncomfortable. I kept going to the bathroom to put powder on them and readjust them. The worst part is that my band way too snug on me. If it was about it being a cup size too small, I could deal. Simply put, it was an ill-fitting nightmare all day long.

I can deal with a bra that was too small in cup size but it was too tight on my ribcage. Not to mention, even though I wasn’t wearing on a fitted shirt, my “boob-prints” show no matter what I wear so my ill-fit was evident for everyone to see. A definite fashion “no-no” indeed but that wasn’t the worst part.

No, that was having a hating ass security guard who seemed like the only issue she had with me that I existed within her space. We have security guards that work from the college that we’re located to make sure that everything is under control. It’s always a lot of drama so the protection is needed, not just for us but for the other patrons. Usually they are men and ironically, me the lesbian gets along with all of them. So leave it up to this day that I would have to work with a stupid ass female guard to stunt on me.

She was cute. I would never hate on her looks or any female’s looks for that matter. She was 5’2″, 145 pounds with sexy wide hips and a small waist for her frame that stood out even in her baggy ass uniforms that every guard had to wear. She had really long hair that went down to nearly her ass. She also had light brown eyes, and actually had a nice smile when she used it which she didn’t use when it came to me. I didn’t know what her problem was with me because I did nothing to her. I’m very professional and try to be nice to everyone.

I was like, ‘Whatever girlie. You don’t have to like me. As long as you do your job, I’m good.’ So I just did what I do every day I’m at work. At the time I was at the patron desk doing what I could to help out assistants; my girls Sophia and Nikki. Another thing, as I said, we’re not as quiet like most libraries are. It can be very noisy with a lot of banter. We talk about a lot of things as normal young women do.

So the conversation was about Kim Kardashian and her famous body. I like her body actually. She’s curvy with nice boobs and we all know about her ass. So a debate between us at the patron desk ensued and it went like this:

Nikki: “I don’t know why she does so much”

Sophie asked her, “What do you mean, Talia?”

Nikki’s answer, “She got surgery on her ass. She didn’t need it. She had a cute shape already. Instead she looked like a cartoon especially in her clothes.”

The security guard, her name was Maria wisecracked back, “Well that how most of these girls who are insecure within themselves do. They rather focus on their bodies than their minds or characters. They are a disgrace to women everywhere.” She had her face focused on me as she said it.

I tried to ignore her but I had to respond like this, “Well, Kim says she’s all natural. That she’s shaped like this because of her ‘Armenian ethnicity.'” I smiled as I said this.

Sophie countered, “Yeah, right! Girl, you don’t believe that. You can’t possibly believe that.”

I replied, “That’s what she says. I don’t care either way. I like her body anyway. “

Nikki asked facetiously, “Cause of her booty?”

I answered with a smile, “It’s nice but her breasts are nice too kaçak iddaa especially after she had Nori (North). I like her pregnant body now. Implants are cool and even though I wouldn’t get them myself, I don’t bash other women who get them. It’s their bodies.”

Then Maria with her smart mouth said, “Well she’s a celeb so I expect her to be about her looks and bodies. What I don’t get is ‘regular women’ alterin’ their bodies so that they can get attention because they are substandard in other areas. ‘Specially if they are in a public setting representin’ themselves as an example.” Again, she looked at me as she said that last thing.

The patron desk had that awkward moment of silence that happens when a person goes too far in saying something stupid especially when shade is thrown. I thought about letting it slide. However, I didn’t bite my tongue. I was classy about it though as I said this, “We all do things to make ourselves ‘look better’ whether with makeup, our hair, our clothes even wearing on high heels to look taller or arch out back to make our booty ‘sit higher’ so we can enhance or emphasize qualities we want to show off, whatever. Fake or real, as long as a woman is satisfied with herself and confident in themselves, who am I to judge what a woman does with her body?”

Everyone nodded their agreement, all except this chick. Instead she had the nerve to say, “So you admit that your boobs aren’t real?” The library was filled with more awkward silence. I was really incredulous. That lil’ heifer, I thought to myself. On top of that, I was still fixing my bra so even more attention was drawn too; ironic attention.

So I told her confidently, “I don’t know where you get that from but these ‘chichis’ are all me. Yep, all mine. Not that I have anything to prove to you, Lil Lady.”

I surreptitiously used my forearms to push my breasts together. My “boob-prints” were even more prominent when I did this. As I did this act, her eyebrows raised up at me in obvious surprise. I believed I smiled at her and she shook her head.

She tried to save face as she sassily spat at me, “We all know them thangs aren’t real. They’re as fake as ‘knock off Guccis’ The quicker you come clean to us, the easier we’ll move on with our lives. “

Everyone was laughing. I tried not to get heated, not because she was dissin’ my boobs. I’m actually used to that from some females. I was angrier at the fact that we were in a public place with kids around and she’s saying all this being unprofessional. Was she serious?

So with the same attitude though smiling at her I said, “I’ll tell you what, Maria. I’ll let you ‘frisk’ me. You know, look for any ‘contraband’ that I’m not supposed to have. Whatever excuse you have to feel me up because I know you really want to touch them. You got my permission right here. Go ‘head.”

That last part when you know I am a bit upset because I usually speak better English than that. I thrust ‘my girls’ out as a dare to her. Everyone was crowded around either laughing or in stunned surprise as I called her out. She looked at me for several seconds before she shook her head again. I smirked at her as my way of saying, I thought so. I hate “A-Cup Envy.” I really do. I heard her mutter under her breath, “Dyke Bitch!” Sophie pulled my arm back thinking I was going to react. I kept my cool and smiled wider. Everything got quiet as the drama died down.

Since no drama popped off, we all did our jobs until closing time. I was a bit worried that she would use what I said to actually falsely accuse me of sexual harassment because of my frisk me down comment. I knew Sophia and Nikki would have my back but I didn’t even want to go through that. Not over a stupid chick. We got done at 5 and I went into the librarian’s office to get my things. I was fuming because Maria didn’t even apologize. I thought about apologizing but I was like, why should I?

I thought about reporting her but as I did, Sophie came into the office. She’s my best friend on the job so she knows my moods. She knows when I am upset. She spoke my name facing me but I was very quiet. I could see she wanted to say something but she paused as if to get her thoughts on point.

She asked with concern, “Are you okay? Are you still upset at that girl? You handled her and shitty attitude. I don’t know what she had against you but you have nothing to be ‘shamed of. If anyone knows them ‘babies’ of yours are all you, it’s me!”

I laughed in spite of my anger, “We’re not talking about that, okay?”

(We once had a “Girl’s night” together, a sleep over at her house. We watched movies, played Uno while drinking a bit, nothing serious. In her tipsy state, she asked me if she could see my breasts because she was curious about them. I couldn’t believe her at first. I guess my facial expression made her repeat herself. She said, “I am just curious kaçak bahis to see what they look like.”

This was about 8 months ago. I was wearing a long “Throwback” Allen Iverson 76ers’ Jersey on with my bra on. I boldly showed them to her after joking that she might go blind after seeing ’em. She was alright…..barely. We got into a conversation about my bra experiences. She was amazed because that’s not her experience. She’s a cute 34B and being shy as she is wouldn’t show me hers. Not that I asked. Not to mention, she’s hetero I actually don’t cross that line. It wasn’t a lustful thing. It was cute funny sisterly moment.)

She laughed with me, “You alright if you can joke like that.”

I kept it 100 with her, “I’m not even angry with that girl. I am worried that she might use it to try to get at me. I should have kept my cool and ignored her. That was stupid what I said and did with her.”

She teased, “I saw that forearm squeeze you did. Her eyes bugged out something serious! If she tries to come at you, I got you. She was the aggressor. Who says the stuff she said about someone’s boobs that she doesn’t even know? What was her problem?”

I ruefully responded, “It’s the story of my life. The thing is I love women of all shapes, races and sizes. I actually think she’s pretty. Anyway, that’s not really what has me pissed today. I need a bigger bra. This bra is so ill-fitting that I feel they are about to pop out with any movement I make!”

She joked at my expense, “Po’ baby! Those boobs of yours are taking control of your life. I’m glad I don’t have ’em.”

I told her with a smile, “You a mess. Days like these tempt me to go under the knife.”

She wisecracked, “To get bigger?”

I looked at her like she was crazy before exclaiming, “Stop playing, girl!”

She got serious, “I saw your ‘bra-problem.’ You’ve had it for a while now. I told you about my cousin Miriam in Delaware. She makes bras for girls like you. She’s really good. She’s busty too though not like you so she appreciates what y’all go through and started her company about 8 years ago. It’s not even about the money with her. One of my childhood friends from my old hood swears by her. She’s not as big as you. I think she’s a 32HH. She’s short, a bit thick and dark-skinned. She’s just as proud of her shape as you are.”

I barbed at her, “Is she single?”

She exclaimed, “Syreata!”

I laughed then asked, “How big is Miriam’s clientele?

She answered me, “About 8 women. Her store is small and exclusive. She likes a small clientele because she’s very hands on. She makes the bras herself. She doesn’t want to hire others. I keep telling her to expand but she doesn’t want to. She has her reasons which she will tell you when you see her.”

I was intrigued, “So she could fit me in if I was to call her?”

She affirmed, “Oh yeah! But let me talk to her for you.” She got her phone from her backpack and called it. She said, “Hey Cuz! I got a client for you…..Oh yeah, definitely in need of your expertise, girlie…..Yep, all kinds of ‘side-boob’, definitely needs better support….When can you fit her fit her in….One week, 12 pm? How does that sound, Ree?”

I was elated, “That’s actually perfect. Ask her if she has another client on that day.”

She was on the phone again, “She wants to know if she’s the only one you’re seeing that day…..Oh yeah, cuz? Good…..I’ll let her know. Love ya, Miri!” She hung up. Then she said to me, “A week from today at 12 pm and you’re the only appointment she has that day. You owe me.”

I smiled, “I do. You want me to treat you to dinner?”

She said ruefully, as tempting as that sound, I have to get home. I have to go to Church. I would invite you but you don’t go to church.”

I said, “I would go. I just hope it doesn’t fall down with us in it when I enter it.”

She laughed again, “You’re the worst, Girlie. So I will see you at work on Tuesday?”

I said, “Yep!”

So we all went home. I got in my car to drive her to the Transportation Center so that she could take the train to Philly. Then I drove my way back home. I was so tired and I ready to take my clothes off and take a shower. And I did just that, enjoying the hot water soothing my body. I washed myself off, and decided to go naked. Ah, the joys of being single living by yourself.

Scratch that, I’m lonely as hell. I haven’t had any in months and all I know is being a “jump-off.” It’s my fault because it seems that I allowed myself to be a fetish for women. For example, if a girl wants to see my boobs or touch ’em; I will show them. All so I will feel validated and attractive. That’s so pathetic. How can I be taken serious? How many unfulfilling relationships can I be in?

All I want is to be loved. I love sex, of course, but a relationship? That’s so elusive to me right now. I almost want to go to Voyeur and drink my pain of being lonely away but that’s not the answer. I think, maybe I will play with my “girls.” I’m never “lonely” as long as I have them. Nah, as much as “Regina” and “Lanita” is aching for my touch and attention, I am going to go to sleep.

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