Church Mardi Gras

Our Parish has a Mardi Gras dinner and party every year. It serves as one of the church’s major social events and a huge fundraiser for the school. There is a nice dinner in the cafeteria. One of the parishioners owns the local franchise of a well-known steakhouse and they cater all the food. Following dinner is a dance and casino games in the gym. The dress is formal, and it has the feel of an adult prom. It sounds kind of corny, but it is a lot of fun. Normally I dress quite conservatively as I was blessed with large breasts that I normally keep well covered. Frankly they are out of proportion to my body, and I am normally self-conscious about them. I had purchased a formal dress for an out-of-town New Year’s Eve party that was considerably more revealing than anything that I normally wear. I had only worn it that one time. It had been hanging in my closet for over five years, as there are not many places where I could wear it. Although I was nervous about appearing in it around people that I knew, my husband talked me into wearing it to Mardi Gras. I should have known better.
My husband was excited about showing me off and I had expected that the men would be ogling over my body. But an unexpected thing happened. It wasn’t the men who were gawking at my breasts, it was the women. Maybe it was the fact that we were in the church school or that my husband was present, but other than a few glances, the men said absolutely nothing. All of the attention came from the women and the breast envy they exuded was insane. Three of them in particular. They were women that I knew well and had attended several church functions with before. I had never paid attention to their bodies before, but all three had small breasts and were definitely fascinated by my size. One by one they would sit next to me, stare at my chest and make little comments. I could also see them grouping up and talking to each other about me across the room. It was a little uncomfortable and we would probably have left if it had not been for a commitment that my husband still had, and we only had one car.
Being part of a parish means that you also have to volunteer, and my husband was scheduled to work a blackjack table for an hour. I had already served my time by coordinating ticket sales before the event. As soon as my husband left me alone, I was immediately accosted by the three women. By this point in the evening, we had all had several glasses of wine, so all their inhibitions were gone. Mine were low enough that I allowed the conversation to go where I would not normally have been a participant. They were absolutely fixated on my breasts and could not believe that they were natural. They were convinced that I had gotten implants. I assured them that they were quite the real thing. Over the next 20 minutes, we emptied two more bottles of wine as we talked about the size of my tits, how hard it is to find a bra in my size. They were quite intrigued, and they complained about the size of theirs. By that point, I actually had to go to the bathroom, and two of them followed me.
Instead of going to the bathroom nearest the gym, they talked me into going the bathroom in the girl’s locker room so we could be alone. Now the dress I was wearing is one of those where you really cannot wear a bra underneath so as soon as one of them loosened my shoulder straps, the twins popped out. The two of them showed no hesitation nor respect for my personal boundaries. First it was their hands, then lips and finally tongues. Without the shoulder straps, my dress fell to the floor. I know that they were just playing, but I soon found myself standing in nothing but my sheer panty hose in a Catholic school locker room with two grown women sucking on my tits and giggling about it. I made them stop when one of them started rubbing my crotch. I quickly dressed and went back to the gym. It’s been six months now and neither of them has one word about the incident.

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