It started when my boyfriend left me.
I found him in our bedroom with a strange chick. He was tit-fucking her, having a grand old time.
I yelled, "What the hell is going on?" and both of them nearly jumped out of their skins.
"We're just playing around. We weren't really having sex."
"Like hell! Plowing your cock between her tits sure looks like sex to me! Get out! Get out! Get out!"
As they threw on their clothes, his boner shrunk down in a hurry. As I pushed them out the door, his parting shot pained me. "It's not my fault. You're just too flat to tit-fuck".
When both had left, I threw his stuff into a box, tossed it into the hall, and called a locksmith to get the locks changed. Two hours and two drinks later, the locksmith left and the rustle outside the door told me that he had picked up his box. I was alone.
I drew a hot bath, poured in a bit of bath oil, and stripped off my clothes. For forty five minutes I relaxed with the hot water caressing my body, steaming out my anger as well. After the bath started to cool down, I pulled the drain, climbed out, and dried myself. Naked, I went into the bedroom to pull out my favorite vibrator - the realistic one, 10" long and 5" around - the one I used when Danny wasn't enough.
Though I was already wet and swollen, I wasn't in a hurry. I lubed up the toy with my juices, and played with my clit, sometimes slipping the head inside or just teasing my pussy lips with the soft head of fake dick.
Was I really too small on top to tit-fuck? My 34A boobs weren't very big, but they were nice and firm, and my perky nipples felt very good when licked. But try as I might, there just wasn't enough boob flesh to wrap around the big fake dong. I had to admit it - Danny was right.
Turning off the vibrator, I got up and took a critical look in the mirror. At 32, I had put on about 20 pounds since college, and it showed. My tits were the same A cup they always were - the weight went on my hips and tummy. Passable. Not sexy. And if guys wanted to tit-fuck me, I needed bigger boobs. Much bigger.
What would a boob job cost? What would they really look like if I had it done?
So I threw on a robe, and sat down with my laptop at the kitchen table. Went to Google images, and looked up "boob jobs".
At first, I was surprised how good they looked. Then I looked up the cost, and found that they went for $4K to $6K.
Hell, I could afford that. I spent the rest of the evening looking at pictures of boob jobs. I learned about the different kinds of implants, the different ways the surgery was done. I found that most of the time, girls liked the results but wished that they had gone bigger. So I spent most of the time looking at before/after pictures of girls that started out as a 34A, like me.
At first, I looked at the girls that added about 300cc and went up to a 34C. Very nice, but not particularly impressive. You could probably tit-fuck with those, but it might not be all that comfortable.
The girls that got 450cc implants reached a 34D. Much nicer. Easy to tit-fuck with those. Easy to attract attention.
Then I found the girls that got 600cc or 700cc implants. They didn't have boobs. They had a rack! A pair like those might make me reconsider my straight orientation. But even with big tits, I still faced my tummy and big hips.
After sleeping on it, I made myself a promise the following morning. Lose the 20 pounds, and your reward is a boob job.
The ensuing 3 months were very boring. No boyfriends, always hungry. I used the time to research plastic surgeons in my area, and bought few cheap bras online: a 34C, 34D, 34DD, and 34E. I played around with them at home, stuffing the bras, pulling on a tee shirt, and looking at myself in the mirror.
I threw out the 34C the first night. Definitely too small. The 34D felt nice at first, but after a few nights, I found myself putting on the 34DD and liking it better. The 34E, on the other hand, seemed like a bit too much. Made me look like a hooker.
I tried another experiment. I got a couple of different sized tops of the same style. Then I ordered some falsies to slip inside the bras, and started going out, decked out with boobs of different sizes. What would happen?
With the 34C, nothing happened. Nada. Zilch. No body noticed me. The 34D turned a few heads, but not many. The 34DD got everyone's attention. Perfect. My diet was coming along, so I made a consult appointment with a nearby doctor that had lots of good recommendations.
Dr. Sawyer saw me the following Friday. Nice fellow, easy demeanor. I brought some pictures of gorgeous tits I liked, my 34DD bra, and the falsies I used to fill it out. He strolled into the exam room with an easy smile and a file folder.
"So you're considering breast augmentation?"
"Yeah. I've been thinking about it for some time. I'm too flat upstairs, and want to be bigger - to fill out my clothes, feel better about myself."
"All very good reasons to get it done. Let's loosen up that gown and take a look." And with a small tug on the string holding my hospital gown in place, the robe falls away exposing my small tits just inches from his face. My nipples are hard, and I'm excited.
"You have very pretty breasts - a bit on the small side, but nice and firm. You're a very good candidate for the procedure. How big do you want to go?"
"I went out and got some different bras to try out. The one I liked best is a 34DD. I use these to fill it out." I hand the bra and the falsies to the doctor. "Should I put them on?"
After he nods, I slip the bra on, and stuff the falsies inside. He feels me up, and then asks me to turn around for him. "Those are pretty big. How tall are you?"
"I'm almost 5' 8". Everything I've read says that girls wished that they went bigger. When I wear these, they make me feel sexy. Smaller ones don't do the trick."
"And you've decided that the next larger size is too big?"
"I think so. I like the bigger size, but I'm afraid they might be a bit much."
"Well, normally, my patients usually go up only 2 or 3 bra sizes. A DD takes you up 4 sizes. But what you say about wanting to be bigger after the procedure is really true. What feels like "a bit much" now will feel just right in a couple of months."
"It is also hard to judge these things precisely. A large D would require something in the 600cc range. After the swelling has gone down, I think you'll find that some D cup bras fit, and other brands may require a DD cup. But in any case, with an implant this large, I strongly suggest a textured silicone implant with some shape to it. Round implants will look fake."
"Well, I really want to be bigger than a D cup."
"In that case, let's go for a 700cc implant, and overfill them a bit to give you firmer breasts. Depending on how things go in the operating room, I may add or subtract a little to even out your breasts and get the look you want. Sound good?"
"That sounds fine to me. I'm really looking forward to it!"
Dr Sawyer got up from the chair, and flashed is kind smile at me again. "I'm glad we got that settled. The cost of the procedure would be $4750, and that includes everything. After you get dressed, stop by the receptionist and you can schedule the procedure and make the financial arrangements." We shake hands, and he leaves.
The receptionist told me that they had a cancellation, so there is an opening available on the following Friday. I have to make a 50% deposit, with the balance due within 30 days of the procedure. I take the appointment, and walk out - floating on air. I'm not going to get a boob job - I'm going to get a rack!
Two days before the procedure, I get a call from his office. "The company that makes the implants doesn't have any 700cc implants in stock. They have some 650s, and some 725s, We could ask them to ship one of those, or postpone the surgery and wait until we can get the 700s.
I don't want to wait. I want my boobs, and I want them now! So I tell her to have them ship the 725s.
Not much to tell about the surgery. I skipped breakfast, and arrived an hour early. They prepped me, marked my boobs with a blue marker, and put in an IV. After wheeling me in to the operating room, a sedative knocked me out. I woke up an hour later with some big bandages on my chest, very groggy. They gave me a sip of water, but little else.
An hour later, Dr. Sawyer came by, and I was feeling a bit better. "The procedure went well - I was pleased with your final shape. We overfilled the implants a bit to give you fuller, perkier breasts. We went 760cc on the left side, 750cc on the right. You'll be sore for a few days, and it will take about 2 weeks before the swelling starts to go down. The nurse will give you some pain medicine, take it every 4 hours for the first two days, then only when you need it."
"Please leave the compression bandage on for 2 weeks - no peeking. I know you want to look, but the bandage will keep the swelling down, and help the implants settle into the proper position. 90% of all complications occur because the bandage was removed too early. Cover the bandage with saran wrap to take a shower, and wear loose clothes during the next two weeks. OK?
"OK. I promise I'll leave the bandage on."
"Good. Now come back in two weeks. Then we'll take off the bandage and see how they look."
The cab came to pick me up, and I spent a long weekend in my apartment, mostly sleeping a lot. The loose clothes made sure that I didn't get too many stares at work. I was dying to see my new tits, but I didn't want to screw it up. So I followed the doctor's orders and left them alone.
Two weeks later, I woke up very excited. I would see my new tits today! My cunt was sopping wet, aching to be filled. This time I didn't fool around - I plunged my biggest dong in and went to town. Sliding it in and out of my hungry hole, I dreamed of tit-fucking a horse cock, watching him coat my new tits with his cum. It didn't take long before I climbed over the top, riding and milking that rubber schlong as I dreamed of my stud with a big cock.
A shower and a loose sweater later, I was on my way to Dr. Sawyer's office. When we pulled off the bandages, I was disappointed. Angry red marks where he made the incisions at the lower edge of my nipples. Instead of firm and perky, they were soft and puffy. And they were HUGE!
But Dr. Sawyer was very reassuring. "Don't jump to conclusions yet. The swelling hasn't started to subside yet, so you are bigger and softer than you will be in just a few weeks. The incisions look pretty bad now, but they will quickly fade. Patience!"
I put on the 34DD bra, and it was hopeless. The 34E was closer, but I was still spilling over the top. A few tears later, I got dressed and went to a department store to get something that fit. A 34EE seemed to do the trick. But on my 130lb frame, my huge, sore tits made me feel like trailer trash. I was depressed. I wanted DD boobs, and ended up with EE boobs. I was too big for Playboy. I went home and cried.
But Dr. Sawyer was right. Every day, the swelling got a little better. My boobs firmed up, and took on the nice perky shape I wanted. After another 4 weeks, I found that the 34EE bra was too big, and the 34E fit better. I no longer spilled over the top so much. The scars diminished, and now I'm the only one that knows they are there.
I got used to my E cups, and grew to like them. They jiggle and sway like they should, putting on a show as I walk. I can wear a loose top at work to hide them, a tight top at night to show them off. I know I wouldn't want to be any bigger, but I don't think I'd have been as happy with a DD cup. They're just right.
Two months after the operation, I summoned up the courage to put my new tits to good use. 34E Victoria's Secret Bra, tight top, tight jeans. Light touch on the makeup. Trip to the sports bar.
The guys were all over me. I picked out the guy with the nicest combination of muscles and a big bulge in his pants. He took me home and couldn't keep his hands off my tits. After he ate me out, I sucked on his 8" cock and tit-fucked him till he dumped his load all over my face and tits.
Yep. It was worth it. But I'm starting to think about getting my lips done. Wrapping my puffy fat lips around a big cock sounds good to me. I wonder what that would cost?