When I saw from the long-range forecasts that the temperatures in
Even the dress I bought has a seam right under the bust although it’s shaped to have a natural waistline. The dress also has substantial shoulder straps, so I don't feel completely exposed. The neckline, though, is pretty low when filled with me instead of the dainty dress-form. I’m really tired of boobage, but since exposure was inevitable I decided to work it. With the help of a sold-state suspension device, aka push-up bra, from
My efforts didn’t go unnoticed. As the party was winding down, after the champagne toast with the parents and grand-parents of the newly-weds and, oh, five or six tequila-shot toasts among the remaining rowdy bunch after the elders had departed, the groom, by way of good-bye, went face down in my cleavage, gave my bound and elevated bosom a couple of good squeezes, and announced, LOUDLY, that I had some “rock-hard titties” on me. I think he meant that as a compliment. The next day I had beard-burn on my chest.
Shortly after he made his startling announcement, the bride put him to bed – alone – and we, the women who remained standing, went out for a snack. A good time was had by all.