She was wearing a silk dress, the one we bought together several months before. She loved it and took it despite the fact her small breasts did not fill the bra and left some folds of loose fabric. Only when she picked a push-up bra (with inlets possibly larger than her breasts), the top of the outfit looked quite good. And now?! Her breasts were literally trying to rip the dress! The soft silk was biting into her tits, and the naked skin formed two perfect mounds squeezed tightly against each other. I was under the impression, that if she took a deep breath, the stretched to the limits fabric would tear and her large boobs would be seen in all their naked glory. She wasn’t wearing a bra – most likely it wouldn’t have fit under her dress anyway. Her nipples were prominent like two hard buttons. I’d never seen such full breasts on a person as slim as Amy.
I was dumbstruck. I didn’t know how to react, or what to say. We had always been proud of elegant, sublime, well balanced style that we worked out together. Slim silhouettes, subtle makeup, carefully chosen designer clothes. We never shocked with sexuality, we believed it to be unmannerly. Now, looking at her monstrous boobs I felt betrayed.
She looked so vulgar. It was obvious her tits were unnatural, silicone-filled to its limits. It didn’t fit her slender silhouette. It provoked. It seemed to be making a statement: I am attractive, willing and ready, fancy a fuck? It stimulated the most primitive instincts, it reminded of perverse sex and promiscuity. It made her into a plastic, silicone-pumped doll.
How could Amy have done something like that?!
From upcoming story