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.