* Annabelle writes to Mark after 2 years.
Dear Mark,
Hopefully this letter finds you well. Sorry for the long silence. Last semester at the hospital was really hectic as I had to finish up my last on campus assignments. Next semester I will be moving to another hospital again for my final practical.
I want you to know that the summer we spent together was the best time of my life. If Chloey is silly enough to ever let you go I will come to you in a blink.
As you are my best friend I also want you to know that all the encouragement you have been giving me hasn't gone to waste. As a trainee doctor at our uni hospital I am now entitled to free or massively discounted surgical procedures, including breast augmentation. The only thing was, I needed to get my supervising professor to approve the procedure. With all your egging, last summer I finally plucked up enough courage to see Prof. Wilkinson about my "little problem". He put me through some pretty rough therapies.
After a few 1 to 1 sessions, one of the things he did was to make me strip in front of my peers! At lunch, he gathered all the trainees who were working in our ward that day into one of the examination rooms. He got everyone to surround us in a circle. He then announced:
"Everyone, listen up. Your fellow student and colleague Annabelle has a confession to make. I do not want any one of you to be judgmental, but please lend her your support".
I was too dumbfounded to speak. I was the same wreck that stood before you when you asked me to strip for the first time. I felt blood rush to my cheeks and I was shaking. I could not look them in the eyes so I just stared blankly at the floor. Up till then everyone thought I had big tits.
Slowly I undressed without saying a word. When I got down to my bra, I unclasped it and pulled the straps over my shoulders one by one. All the while I held the cups of the bra close to my chest. I must have stood there forever with my 'breasts' in my hands.
The breasts felt soo good in my hands. So full, so ample, so attractive. The one womanly curve I did not have! I started to cry. This was my image, my shield. I wanted to lower the bra but my hands felt glued to my chest. Some nasty memories also came flooding back.
I'm going to tell you some of them now. The last "boyfriend" I had left me after he saw my real breasts. I cried for days. To make things worse he was going around telling all our friends from high school. Luckily I was accepted into med school so I skipped town very quickly.
You see, I had always been around him in my padded bras. I was hoping he would get interested in me as a person first. Sadly, he was especially immature even for high school.