One morning when Johnnie was washing me under the shower I told him about my problem. He said one word which was Tinge – typical Johnnie, never says much. He says he says what he has to say and then he stops.
I talked to my mother, did she have the same problem? “What does Tinge mean, granny? Would it help me with my problem: I need support, but also I want to swing ‘em about.”
“Oh yes! I like to swing them around too, but I take my bra off first. Johnnie likes it you know. But I know you, you want to swing ‘em anytime you like. You’ll like Mrs Tinge, she fits underwear at that very old-fashioned women’s clothes shop in the High Street.”
“Hello Mrs Thornton, I’ve got you booked for two hours, but it could easily take longer. So, let’s have a look at them.”
“Oh yes, oh yes! A very nice pair of lovelies I must say.” Mrs Tinge got rather excited. “The best pair of swingers I have seen in a long time. I don’t often see swingers and those who have them don’t want to swing ‘em about.”
“Please show me how they work. Come on, don’t be shy.”
I hit her with both barrels from the left and before she could recover the same again from the right. She fell to the floor. No one can accuse me of being shy.
“Magnificent, magnificent! I bet your husband likes that. And now for the hands-on examination.”
Of course it took longer than two hours; the following Saturday I went to Mrs Tinge’s private office and she had a surprise for me.
“Welcome to my office, Mrs Thornton. You gave me a lot to think about. You have a lovely pair of swingers, big enough and loose enough to cause harm and mayhem – just what the men want.
However you are worried that without the necessary support they will droop and become too long; but you feel that wearing a bra will limit your spontaneity. Am I right?”
Without waiting for an answer Mrs Tinge continued. What have I got here? A bra. A substantial bra, one capable of supporting the lovelies. Try it on and look in this mirror!”
It was big, but pretty with little flowers all over it. “How does it feel, Mrs Thornton?”
“Very comfy and a lot of support.”
“Good, good. Try swinging ‘em about.”
Nothing happened, everything stayed in place. “Now pull the green ribbon down!”
I did, I swung again, I almost fell over. “Now pull the red ribbon down!”
Everything stayed in place.
“It’s a special sort of bra, an articulated bra. A bit expensive, made by ABC, the Articulated Brassiere Corporation, but just what you need.”
“When the red ribbon is down the cups stay in place and give support. When the green ribbon is down the cups let you swing your lovelies around. If you pull the blue ribbon the cups fold back and out gush your lovelies. Try it!”
Was I happy. “Right Mrs Thornton. You need some practice. Pretend that I’m your husband and give me your best.”
It was late in the day when I got home. I was still very excited about my ABC. My husband George was waiting for me.
“Hello George darling. Sorry I’m late, but I’ve got an ABC. Wanna see it?”
“Very pretty, Olive dearest.” He pulled the red ribbon. “Lots of support.”
He pulled the green ribbon and I hit him with both barrels from the left and before he could recover the same again from the right. He almost fell over.
I swung again, however I had not seen that he had pulled the blue ribbon. I toppled over onto him. It is very difficult to speak when your face is in somebody’s cleavage. But I was happy with my ABC and happy with him. I put my arms around his head and held him close.