She Who Laughs Last, Laughs Chest

Story Sent in by June:

Nate and I spoke online for a week before he asked me out. We met in person, in early evening on a moderately busy street. He looked a bit different from his photos, and by different, I mean he sported an extra 30-40 pounds of difference. He had the thickest neck that I'd ever seen.

However, apparently, I wasn't the only one who was taken aback. "Damn," he said after we spotted each other, "Nice tits."

My chest is satisfactory for most guys. Thank you for noticing. In fact, you could see that in most of my profile pictures. It shouldn't have come as any sort of surprise. What surprised me was the fact that in person, Nate's chest was about the same size as mine.

"Plastic okay?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

He pulled out his wallet, removed a credit card, and reached for my cleavage with it. I hit his hand away. His smile turned into a rigid frown.

He asked, "What's your problem? I was just complimenting you."

I stepped away and replied, "All right. Thanks."

He turned away from me and yelled, right there on the street, "Hey everyone! This girl can't take a compliment about her tits!"

I had had enough of this clown. I yelled back, "Since when is 'They're almost as big as mine' a compliment?"

There was scattered laughter, but no one really paid much attention. Nate trembled and stepped toward me like he meant to hit me, then stopped himself and said, "You're not worth it. Get out of my face."

I remained standing where I was and said, "I'm staying right here. You leave."

He muttered, "Call me when you grow up, out of kindergarten," and then took off. I didn't realize up until that point that I had been quivering, myself. Still, I'm glad that it worked out for the best, and gladder still that he never tried to contact me again.