The girl sitting next to me reached out and gently cupped my breast."Are they real?" she asked. "Or implants?""Um, they're real," I said. Her boldness had taken me by surprise, especially as we had only just met.
"Oh, very nice." With almost forensic precision, she examined the breast's weight and shape with her fingers.She moved her attention – and her hand – to her own chest. "A lot of my friends have implants," she told me. I hid my relatively new curves in the same way she disguised her thin, lithe figure, under loose-fitting clothes. I wondered if women had always been this way, always dissatisfied, always longing to look different."You're beautiful the way you are," I said. "If you want to be bigger naturally, just put on some weight. You just have to be a bit fatter all over."I could hear her male companion finishing a mobile 'phone conversation in the other room, his voice growing louder as he walked back towards us. She giggled, I smiled."It's so hot. Let's get some water," I said, changing the topic. I didn't want to think about it anymore.