Signing up for a wet t-shirt contest held for charity was a no-brainer. 

I love showing myself off; showing my tits for a wet T-shirt contest was no problem.

There are a few things I’m proud of. For example, I’ve got some great ass-ets. Excuse the pun, I couldn’t help myself. But I also have some huge tracks of land. That is to say, my boobs are huge, bouncy, and very, very squishy. Often when working out, I’ll have to wear two sports bras to keep them close to my chest. But I never hide them when I need to show them off. Rest assured, I love to show my breasts off. If you haven’t seen them, may I suggest looking at my profile page? 

My awesome breasts aside, I do love showing off my body. Anything charity related is a plus. So when I heard of a wet t-shirt contest, how could I not join up? The proceeds would go to the local cancer center. And the contest was in the middle of winter (though inside a gym), so the girls’ nipples were extra perky. 

So, I signed up. First, I put my measurements in the application. 5’8”. 36 DD. Secondly, I put in a photo of me in the tightest shirt I could, smiling. And then I waited to hear back from our local contest organizer, a lovely lady by the name of Meg. 

Within two hours, Meg got back to me. She gave me the rules and a contract- no touching the other girls, no sabotage, the wet t-shirts stay on in the wet t-shirt contest, and most importantly, no touching the audience members. The audience would throw their money on stage and the girl with the most money “won”, which meant getting a fun t-shirt to keep. 

How could I say no?

The Competition

The other girls involved wore shirts of similar design. But to keep the big buxom women like myself from having an advantage, girls with smaller breasts were given very tight t-shirts. One woman wore a children’s T-shirt, printed with the charity logo on her stomach. She gave me a wink and skipped over, so I could see her perky tits bounce. “You’re new.” 

“I am,” I admitted. It wasn’t just the competition that I was sizing up. Additionally, each nipple and breast went into my eye for some pampering self pleasure ideas for later. Other girls bounced around– and worked on their breasts bouncing, too, in those tight white shirts. One woman, about the same size as myself, found her shirt riding up under her breasts. When she bounced, her boobs pulled the shirt up high, and that kept it ridden up on her stomach. 

Another girl, with nice B cups, had modified the shirt. She took a smaller size and cut it up to make it a crop top. Realistically, it was an ingenious move. However, it was risky. If her nipple showed without the t-shirt, she was in for a disqualification. But that was the risk she’d have, not me. 

After thirty minutes of waiting, Meg called us all up. We’d go on one at a time, dance, get sudsy, you name it. Then any money we collected would go to charity, with a few non-wet t-shirt contest girls accounting for the money. They smiled with their black t-shirts, microphones, and clipboards. 

Honestly? Those girls were cute, too.

The Contest

It didn’t take long for the contest to start. Each girl got five minutes to stand under the spray. Those of us not out were either wet in the back, or waiting to get wet. “Aya, Mami,” one of the girls next to me said, seeing her friend come back. She squeezed the girl’s C-cups. “You and I later, okay?”

The girl laughed and gave her a quick peck on the lips, before handing her soggy money over to one of the attendants.

At my curious look, she winked at me. “My girlfriend and I always do this together,” she explained.

And then it was my turn. I stepped out onto the makeshift stage, a hose ready in front of me. As soon as they announced my name, I began dancing, moving my hips to make my breasts move. I grabbed the hose and put it between my legs, shooting it all over my chest and my face. The screams reached my ears, and my body responded. Breasts and booty shook all over.

I don’t need to tell you I got soaked. I don’t need to tell you who won.

But man, part of me wishes I had my sports bra on. I danced so much, my breasts hurt from all that bouncing the next day.

 

It’s good to enjoy some wet tracks of land! By all means, come fertilize them with my fellow busty ladies at phone sex kingdom!! 

wet t-shirt contest