There is a somewhat surprising moral to this story at the end of it. A lady friend of mine that would become a FWB when we were both between insignificant others came into some money in her mid-forties. It was well over a hundred grand. She set up a trust fund for her granddaughter and bought quite a few new things including a pair of titties.
It wasn't augmentation, more like restoration. She said, "I had a nice pair of boobs before I had the kids and now that the kids are gone, I want my boobs back." So she went to a plastic surgeon to get some air in her tires that had become deflated.
I had seen pictures of her before she became a mother and she was pretty hot and a very well built size six. But since the pictures had been taken, It had become quite mathematical; two kids later, two times six equals twelve.
After healing up from the procedure to install the new hooters, I was invited over for the debut of the two debutants. They were most impressive and I immediately noticed things had been rearranged. The nipples had been moved five inches up and three inches out from where I remember them being.
But a couple of concepts come to mind when the new tatas were viewed within the context of everything around them. Have you ever painted a wall and stood back to admire how good it looks? Then, looked around only to notice how much worse the other walls around it looked compared to what you remember them being?
The other concept is that of buying beautiful chrome rims and putting them on a 1997 Impala that had never been garaged. In and of themselves, the rims look good. But they seem very out of place on an old car, especially when it is not a classic in pristine condition.
They were fun to play with and she was very proud of them. Her self esteem was elevated considerably, and she was much more fun to be with. The moral of the story is that it is not so much what something looks like but rather how somebody feels about it.
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