Scoop 5: Titillation!

I admire natural boobs. I’m a connoisseur when it comes to the crown of the female body. You might have noticed the mags say our hair is our crown, but no way. It’s our twin sisters we carry and push out in front of us as we walk. Well might you ask, what kind of a woman admires boobs and spends her free evening writing about them?

I realise, after 15 years in the erotic industry, how great the magic of these gem squashes are as we release them night after night from where they lie cradled in their little lace packaging.

As Lola releases them on stage, they hop out, no gravity in sight, and stare you straight in the face. And to grab attention even more, she can move them individually up and down. Now that is muscle control. I take special pleasure in watching my clients become putty in Lola’s hands.

Oh, so gullible, this special breed… men. As Victoria releases her boobs, they bounce and jump back to their position. Not too big, not too small. So inviting… advertising her immortal youth. Her nipples like two red cherries – the forbidden fruit.

As Gaby releases them from her extra-laced bra, they drop down and their noses point to the floor. They are the mighty Aphrodite. They might not look you straight in the eye, but you will find their awkward shyness alluring.

Now please don’t be fooled. You often hear the guys talk: “I’m a bum man!” The other will reply, “No, I am more a leg man!” Rubbish! After years, I know the truth: they are all boob men!

The French understand boobs. They ­like them natural. In all the topless shows I have seen in France, the boobs are perky and not too heavy. Like fresh peaches.

Typical of all things American, their boobs need to be the biggest. Young water­melons resting on a skinny frame – that’s what the American Dream has be­come. I have worked with many dancers who, after years of natural boobs, acquire watermelons. Their bodies have to adjust to the extra weight they carry and they become twice their size to accommodate the twins!

For myself, I am blessed with boobs that have a will of their own. They love the stage. My nipples will always jump out and stand to attention. I remember dancing at the Venda Sun, 40 degrees and the glue of our false eyelashes melting. But there they were, erect and ready. Yes, my boobs are true performers.