Archives for posts with tag: boobs

Waking up with him.

Spending the day together. Holding hands, talking, kissing.

Casting my boob with Sarah. And getting to tell her all about Sean.

I made a boob pot. And I added my freckles and moles.

Walking past the beautiful homes in Hornsey, as the sun shone.

Baking and cooking. A nut loaf and some biscuits. It’s nice to have a Sunday afternoon alone in the flat and to finally feel like I’m cooking someone good again.

Looking down during yoga and noticing how great my boobs look.

Yogi inner smile. And outer smile.

Joking with Fanos, the soft bread at lunch, clicking my back as I lay on the grass, the butterfly trail.


Boobs song from Jen. “My vagina… Which is somewhere on my stomach”

Getting the report done. Almost there.

A night with Matt, watching pottery and doing online dating on the sofa.

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A customer asking for a bis-quit. Had to try so hard not to laugh.
The beautiful clouds this morning. Pastel coloured and soft and made me think of my dad.
An email chain with my besties about boobs, including the line ‘chest chest chest chest bean bag boob’.