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Silverscalpel
Copyright 2010 by Silverscalpel
Smashwords Edition
my new breasts
Dry spell, dry spell, dry spell.
Dammit. I did Not think I was an estrous animal. But damn!! 8 months without sex….Not fun!!
So, I went and got fake breasts.
Did it help?? Well….. here goes…
There was a time when I was in love. And then it ended. The take away message was… small boobs. Of course, along with a bunch of other stuff but that didn’t bother me much. I don't know till date, why, but somehow the rest of the criticisms and meticulous list of my shortcomings didn't hit home as hard as that one look and said/unsaid glance.
Anywho… so AFTER the surgery, I was off on my adventure of a rebooted sex life.
Guy no. 1: uuhhh… they’re not real?? What does that mean? (did I explain?? Yeah, by locking the door behind him, half naked arse)
Guy no.2 : sweetie, that feels a little strange…what is that??
Me: my breasts. Uh.. they’re new!!
That did not happen. Apparently men like big breasts only in porn. As was explained to me in the detailed discussion we proceeded to have at 2 in the morning. Did I get laid AFTER the detailed infomercial. No!!
Guy no.3: hmmm… :) :D let’s leave it at that. He found it kinky. N it was ‘on his list’, but, what the heck…
Well…. After that. The dry spell revisited. I took a firm decision not to go out with any more men who think a bit of silicone changes my soul or something. I swear I didn’t sell it. Paid a little. Went through a lot, a LOT of pain. And voila. From a B to a C.
And here i am, my firm decision leading only to a very varied exposure to men's reactions to breast jobs. None of them culminating in the aforementioned goal of getting some action. Since none of the men i've spoken to seem to get beyond the superficial implications of a surgery. So much for my bright plans.
Do i regret this decision? Another in a long line of equally hasty, incompletely weighed and under analyzed bad decisions, the story of my life…. NO. Not one tiny iota. There are a bunch of benefits, explicable and understood only by another woman, perhaps one not so well endowed. I can finally wear adult woman sized clothes :) get into a dress, and fill out a gown without feeling, or, in fact, looking somewhat like a scarecrow, or a dress hanger come to life. I like clothes, i like looking good in them even more :) sue me!! I'm happy!
The automatic rating look of men no longer bothers or embarrasses me. It's like some animal instinct in this gender. 8 inches below your face, and then maybe, maybe they'll grace your face and eyes an audience, some subconscious meter already clicking into place at your approval rating. What it decides is something still beyond the realms of my understanding. Ask a man!!!
So… did i finally manage to find one man to take home with me?? Nope. Not yet. I insist on a discussion of the "enhancements" and hearing his frank views. Perversely, i further insist on debating the merits and de-merits of any and all procedures for changing ones appearance. The hunt is on :) . The funny thing is, the dry spell no longer bothers me. I will keep you posted.