[George VI]

When I was in my early twenties, I attended a Major League baseball game with a few friends. It was a hot summer day, and I sat next to my friend’s fiancée, a cute petite brunette with a slender body and small breasts. As she sat forward, her white cotton top gapped open, and a warm breeze kept it open, and she wasn’t wearing a bra. For much of the game, I glanced over through my sunglasses and could easily see beyond her tan line to her entire little right breast, with her pinkish brown areola and eraser-sized nipple jutting up and out.