When I was young I was very skinny and bemoaned the fact that I had no discernible waist and absolutely no cleavage. I can recall looking at voluptuous women with envy and sighed as I looked at my pigeon-chest.
Weighing half again as much as I did when I was in my early twenties, one of the benefits of the extra weight I have now has been the development of a cleavage. While gravity may be having its unwanted effects on my body, fortunately today’s bras keep everything in its proper place … and even sometimes add a little boost.
After attending an evening out tonight, I went to JD’s room to kiss him goodnight. After enquiring about the health of his two mice, I picked one up to feed it a scrap of food and to pat it. It took the mouse just three seconds to discover my cleavage and it tried to clamber down inside the front of my shirt.
JD was horrified and thought that his mouse would be traumatised for life after such an horrendous experience. I replied that it wouldn’t have hurt him because everything was well covered up, but JD insisted just the thought alone of where it had been would scar him.
Since the mouse is already called ‘Phantom’ I figure one more scar isn’t going to hurt him. ©