"I think this must be primal. Bigger boobs just... yield more satisfaction."
"CUT! That's a wrap everyone!"
Kari's polished smile quickly faded, replaced by an eye-rolling sense of relief. Thank goodness this day of filming was over. All she wanted was to get home, get out of her ridiculous bra contraption, and be alone. Three days as the object of attention behind the counter at Caffe Roma were too much. She was used to being on-camera, with a film crew and of course Tory and Grant. This was different - testing the breast size myth meant she herself was the focus. Scrutinized from every angle by Tory's hidden cameras. Ogled by hundreds of strangers. All while trying to maintain a consistent cheery demeanor to avoid biasing the results of the experiment. A grouchy barista wouldn't get tipped well.
She thanked the owners and staff of the cafe, and said goodbye to the crew. Tory and Grant caught her alone for a moment. "Are you sure you don't want to come back to M7? We're ahead on the planning for next week. Come chill out, have a beer, and we can laugh at Grant as he tries to teach his robot to play Pong."
"No, thanks guys. I really need a shower. And no offense, but if I have some extra time today, I'd rather pick up Stella early and spend it with her." The on-camera smile returned. She didn't want to let on how out-of-sorts she was. "Cool... have fun and we'll see you on Monday!" Tory and Grant left for the truck with another load of equipment. Kari was finally free to go home.
The relief from scrutiny did not come until she entered her apartment and closed the door. Walking back she got the same stares as she did on the way in this morning. She had not wanted to squeeze into the small bathroom in the cafe to remove her oversized bra with the heavy, sweat-inducing prosthetics. So that had to wait until she got home.
Wow those things are uncomfortable,
she thought.
I bet Tory was falling all over himself trying to get the okay to make a pair for me... thank goodness the make-up department was able to find some off-the-shelf.
Her windows were open, and the slight breeze felt good against her bare chest. Kari thought about grabbing a beer and sitting by the window to unwind, but what she really wanted right now was a shower. She tossed the pile of recently removed clothes and the fake boobs onto her bed and went into the bathroom.
Standing under the hot water, steam forming around her, she went through the motions of showering. Her mind was on the myth, and her reaction to it.
Sure, men stare at sexy women, especially with big boobs. I'm sure lots of our viewers do the same to me. Knowing the fans admire my curves never bothered me before - heck, I even dress them up for the show - but maybe that's because it's impersonal... I don't have to experience the leering first hand, like I did all day today. At least I know I'm not missing out on a supermodel career... I could not handle it.
The shower felt good, but wasn't relaxing like she had hoped.
What's wrong with me? What was it about being stared at that got me so upset? Is this a feminist thing? Am I miffed because I was just a piece of art, on display for everyone to appreciate?
Her pondering was interrupted by a sudden jolt - of pleasure. She had absent-mindedly brushed over her nipples as she was soaping up. They were fully erect. It wasn't because she was cold - the water must be at 110 degrees, the way she likes it.
Am I turned on??? Could I actually be aroused from all the attention???
Kari thought about the customers, both men and women, with whom she interacted today. She didn't need to review the footage to know that people enjoyed looking at her. True, it was mostly at her chest, but they did make a connection with her, looking her in the eye and smiling as they placed their orders and left their tips. There was something... well... nice about making people happy by being sexually attractive.
There's nothing wrong with that,
