The temptation to wrench her gaze away kept hammering at the forefront of her mind but she couldn’t do that because it would mean she was no longer able to admire the beautiful breasts being presented to her. She squirmed uncomfortably on her stool and flexed a grin that felt as brittle as ice. ‘They’re lovely,’ she whispered. She drew a deep breath and added, ‘They’re perfect.’ She kept her hands clutched in her lap, fearful she might inadvertently reach up and stroke the bare flesh.
‘My boyfriend bought them for me as a present last Christmas.’ Tina placed long, sensuous fingers against her left breast and lifted it slightly. Drawing an index finger along the crease where her breast met her chest, she added, ‘The surgery scars are so tiny they’re virtually invisible.’
Sally struggled not to tremble. She was already puzzling over the idea of receiving new breasts for Christmas. She was momentarily struck by the absurd image of two boob-shaped gifts sitting beneath a tree, wrapped in green and red crepe and fastened with gold ribbons. The mental picture was so clear she could even see the gift tag saying: ‘To Tina from your boyfriend. PS – Don’t put them on the wrong sides.’
The surreal idea did not last long. It was quickly dispersed by rising excitement as she watched an acrylic nail chase the invisible arc where meticulous surgery scars had healed to a fading memory. She could feel her eyes growing larger as she looked. Her breathing had deepened and the warm scent of arousal flooded over her body. The familiar fragrances of Leichner powders and grease sticks were instantly banished as she breathed in the rich flavour of her own musk. Her heart raced and her body was filled with a desperate need to get closer to the woman.
‘They’re absolutely perfect,’ she muttered.
‘Perfect, my arse!’
The exclamation was hooted from Carla. Identical in size and build to Tina – Sally had already realised the members of the chorus line bore so many physical similarities they looked like clones – Carla was known to be overbearing and opinionated. She had only just taken her blouse off and still wore a pair of jeans. But her breasts were exposed and she hurried to place herself between Sally and Tina. ‘These are what you call perfect,’ Carla said, pushing her breasts close to Sally. ‘And I didn’t need a boyfriend to buy these for me. I grew them on my own.’
Sally silently berated herself for ogling. Carla’s breasts were as impressive as Tina’s – more impressive, she supposed, if it was true that they were natural and not the product of medical enhancement. They were slightly smaller but the same elegantly described circle. The areolae and nipples were an identical shade of rose petal pink to the one that Sally favoured for her lipsticks. She imagined how it would feel to stroke Carla’s nipple against her lips instead of the lipstick. The idea made her cheeks smoulder.
‘You can feel the difference,’ Carla laughed cruelly. ‘Natural boobs feel so much better than those rock hard silicone tits like Tina’s got. Come on,’ she encouraged. ‘Take a hold of one and then you can tell me they feel as good as they look.’
Sally watched her hand rise into the air. Her palm was open and moving closer to the woman. The process looked like it was taking place in slow motion. A yawning expanse separated her fingers from the enticing flesh of Carla’s beautiful breast. But she could see her hand was going to traverse the distance.
Tina grabbed Sally’s wrist before she could touch Carla. She placed the hand firmly on her own breast. ‘Sally needs to have touched my boobs if she’s going to say whether or not yours feel better,’ Tina snipped.
Sally didn’t hear.
She was cupping Tina’s glorious breast. The flesh was cool. The pressure of a rigid nipple pressed into the centre of her palm. She could feel the gentle pulse of blood pumping beneath the surface and she noticed that the skin moved ever so slightly with each infinitesimal shift of her fingers. The contact was exhilarating. She marvelled that she had never previously experienced anything so exciting. Lightly, not sure if it was acceptable but unwilling to miss the opportunity, she squeezed.
Tina caught her breath.
An encouraging smile fluttered across her lips.
‘OK! That’s enough!’
Sally’s hand was wrenched from Tina’s breast and placed over Carla’s.
‘You’ve felt hers. Now touch mine and tell us which feels better.’
Judging was impossible.
Comparing Tina’s breast to Carla’s was like comparing food with water. Sally needed both and couldn’t rank one as superior to the other. Not that her thoughts were so clear she could have articulated that sentiment. Her mind was shrouded by a haze of arousal. She was holding Carla’s breast, her palm still sweating from having held Tina’s, and she was amazed the physical contact could be so stimulating. The excitement rested like a lead weight in the pit of her stomach. Arousal left her flushed, squirming on her stool, and desperate to do more with either Carla or Tina or both of them simultaneously.
Sally had never thought she could be attracted to other women, much less excited by them. She had always enjoyed the attention of a regular boyfriend and believed her tastes were heterosexual to a degree that bordered on being mundane. But, since she had started to share a dressing room with the other members of the chorus line, Sally had begun to wonder if a mere boyfriend was enough to satisfy the needs that were slowly awakening from her libido.