Big Booty Chronicles

“Girl, you’re blessed to have a body like that!”. “If I had that ass, I would show it off every where I went. I would drop something just to purposely bend over and pick it up.” “I know you can get any dude you want wit a ass like that”. “It’s amazing!” “How much did your butt shots cost and who did you go to?” “Can I grab it?” “Is it soft?” “I know when you at home by yourself you be clapping that joint in the mirror” “I just want to see if it’s real 👀” “Girl, your ass so phat you was probably born ass first instead of head first” and last but not least, “Britany, WHY is your butt so big?!”

Any butt joke, comment and/or statement you can think of, I’ve heard it. Those mentioned above are just the ones that I can remember.

I was ten years old when my body began to develop. Ten. And while everybody was getting taller, there I was getting wider, thicker or phatter in other words.lol. In elementary school, kids weren’t that concerned about having a body or anything on the physical surface. So in return I stood out. I had the biggest butt in the school and everybody noticed (probably even the teachers). In girls clothes, your size ranged between: 7-16. In 5th grade (at 10 years old), I was somewhat normal. I wore a 12, which is almost kinda like the average size for a ten year old girl. By the start of 6th grade, I momentarily wore 14s and during my 6th grade school year I was wearing a size 16. At the start of middle school (7th grade), I was wearing a 5 in juniors. I skipped the experience of wearing a 00,1,2,3 and 4. This was the start of the weirdest glow up you can imagine. This was my beginning of the big booty chronicles 🍑.

PART 1.
I was short and my butt seemed bigger than my body, least it felt like. By middle school, boys are looking at girls and girls are checking for boys. Me? I was somewhere in between trying to figure out why I couldn’t wear the sweatpants with the spray painted writing and glitter across the butt or why I could never have a pair of parasucos. Lol. My shorts barely could stop above my knees and I could never wear a bathing suit without a huge t-shirt or extra pair of shorts over the bottoms. I was cool with that though, I was still in my tomboy era anyways.

My daddy knew what he was doing too. There was several things my daddy taught me before going to middle and high school. I remember him having a brown pick up truck, it had a white stripe on the side. It was an old school thing, probably was a 92 chevy pickup or something. The seats were made of some kind of thick material stitched together and wrapped in plastic. If you had any sharp objects, the plastic would peel and the small cream colored stitching would poke up at you. He picked me up one day and we went for a ride. We talked a lot about things that I won’t discuss here. But the one thing I will discuss is the one thing that I took with me into high school and college. My daddy told me that “boys don’t think with the head on their shoulders. They think with the head in their pants.” That statement followed, rather haunted me continuously. I probably was around 12 maybe and thinking “how can they think with the head in their pants?” Boy was I in for a rude awakening. It seemed like every experience following that talk related to that conversation that night.

I hadn’t quite came into myself yet. Especially not at 13 and 14. Maybe I didn’t realize what I had been carrying around but as a young girl I was already getting looks from older men. A baby in the face, grown woman in the body. I always had a gap in the back of my jeans when I got them up, even with a belt on. It didn’t matter, I guess to the men it didn’t hurt to look. But my mother was vicious, she was a lioness and I was her cub undoubtedly. At a young age my lack of understanding made me resent the times when I couldn’t wear tight fitting jeans like my friends. I didn’t understand her logic behind it to know that she was simply just protecting me.

There were some pretty girls at my middle school. Getting perms and having long hair was the shit. I stayed with cornrows. My butt was poking and I ain’t know what to do wit it. I was the girl wit the sensitive ears, I was hearing boys talk about sex and did not participate. I knew early on I would hold out on losing my virginity, I just knew it was something I had to do. I thought about it though. There was a boy I liked, a lot lol. I won’t reveal his name so we just gon call him Romeo. I remember one of my first contacts with a boy. It was Romeo, our class was walking somewhere in the hallway in a single file line. We had to wear uniforms and we all either had on navy blue or black pants and white or baby blue shirts. While we were walking, we came to a stop. I was in the back of the line (probably on purpose lol) and I remember Romeo walking up behind me. It was like he hugged me from the back, except he gently placed his hands on my legs and palmed my thighs. And at the same time, he placed his head on my collar and softly press his seductive lips against my neck. He gave me chills. It was the first time I felt a sensation forreal. Whatever the case was, I knew back then that Romeo only showed me that attention because of one thing. That was just part of the lil shit young boys used to do when they liked or found interest in a girl. We were young, I’m sure Romeo wasn’t doin it because he thought I was pretty. What my daddy say, boys think wit the head in their pants, not the head on they’re shoulders, right?

Well look, I was like low key infactuated with Romeo. He was always givin the light skinned face, squinting his eyes and licking his lips all crazy. Man listen, it’s gettin real and we moving on from middle school so you already knowwww what’s bout to go down 😏

To be continued . . .