When I was about 9, I used to draw boobs in my copy books.

I knew I shouldn’t have been doing that — for multiple reasons — getting caught being the least.

But I did it anyway.

And for an extremely shy and introverted kid, I was surprisingly unabashed about it… but not completely beyond humiliation, if caught…

Which I was.

It happened in math class. I should have been paying attention but I wasn’t. I was thinking about them, and my fingers were too. Maybe a part of me knew back then that the female form excited me… a lot.

I don’t fall in love with women, but I definitely fall in lust with them…

The curves, the soft, the moonly musky mystery.

Anyway, there I was… little 9 year-old me, drawing a buxom blonde with ample knockers spilling out over her off-the-shoulder top.

Daryl Hannah… Darrryl Hannnah… Darrrrrryl Fuuuucking Hannnnnnah….

Of course, her nipples and magnificent areolas were on display.

Then the girl in front of me randomly turned around… and spied what I was doing to my copybook.

It was more than just doodling… it may have been a preteen precursor to fantasizing but on display in pencil lead and the blushing of my buttermilk complexion.

Of course she yelped and said, “Eeeeew” in true 9 year-old girl fashion. The whole class stopped what they were doing and gawked at me. I slammed that book shut so fast.

I remember the volcanic eruption in my cheeks and a secret twinge in a layered fluttering space within me that I didn’t understand at the time.

And in all honesty, I have no memory of what happened next. None whatsoever. Did the teacher see? Did anyone else? Did I rip it out and stuff it into my mouth, as if trying to swallow my little secret?

I can still feel it rumbling around in my belly, I can still taste the ink on my tongue… so maybe I did stuff it in my mouth after all….

You want at it? Come and pull it out of my throat! I seriously can’t recall though. But I will always remember the set of funbags I illicitly sketched in that copybook that day.

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❤👽

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*** So… Sugar Tits… have a thing for humiliation or something? Kind of an odd way of exposing that particular kink, dontcha think? ***

*** Sounds like you’re projecting, Peanut Gallery…. ***

*** My mind isn’t the only part of me that remembers the feeling of drawing… that day…. ***