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A lonely woman at home with a couple of friends.

I took a sip and closed my eyes, savoring the cool sweet taste. When I opened my eyes, Paula was just settling in at the other end of the couch. She tucked one leg under herself as she sat down, and the panties she wore pulled tight against her crotch. Wisps of blonde hair peeked out from the leg holes, and the outlines of her mound were plainly visible through the cotton panties. She made no effort to cover herself as we talked, and I had to consciously stop myself from staring at her pussy.

"So what has you so worked up?" Paula asked. "I don't see what the big deal is - either you want to have the surgery or you don't. Why is it such a problem?"

"I wish it was that easy, Paula. I know that you have no problem in the chest department, but I have always felt, well, inadequate. I barely have a handful of breast - if you put them both together! I want to get the stares that YOU get when you walk into a room."

"It isn't all that great, Geneen. Half the time men are talking to me, they never make eye contact - they're just staring at my chest. And on top of that my blonde hair makes them think I'm some kind of bimbo who should go down on them out of gratitude for their talking to me! It really isn't that wonderful to be well endowed!

"Besides, you don't get to see the looks YOU get as you pass by. Your ass is so perfect and tantalizing that most men are drooling over you. But because you don't have eyes in the back of your head, you never see THOSE reactions!"

I blushed at this, knowing that my ass was indeed a man's dream. I had learned how to wiggle it enough to get what I wanted, without having to give a piece of it to everyone who wanted it. At one point I had been proportioned the way I wanted - tits and ass at about the right ratio, but the latter grew more than the former and I felt like my body was a pear instead of an hourglass. Brad had offered a way out of this situation, as his father is a plastic surgeon and could do the operation for a whole lot less than what he normally charged.

"I was really ready to do it until I mentioned it to Mark," I said. "He seems to be worried about the health problems that I could have as a result of implants. He even pulled up a website that deals with litigation in breast implant cases, and some of the stories are downright scary!

"Mark seems to think that nature gave me what I have, and that's the way it should be. He says I should feel good about myself for who I am, not what I look like." I grinned as I remembered his reaction. "He said that as far as he was concerned, any man would be proud to have me walking beside him, just the way I am. God, I wish he would make a move on me. I would jump his bones so fast...!"

Paula choked on her wine and started coughing. I took the glass from her and placed it on the coffee table, then moved closer to pat her on the back. As the coughing fit stopped, Paula managed to respond to my comment.

"What do you mean, make a move on you? You don't see the way he looks at you? If he gave me half the attention that he gives to you, I would have had him in my bed long ago! But he keeps his distance from us, and all I can figure is that he doesn't want to come across as a horny boss, trying to get into our pants. He's too conscious of appearances to want to seem like he's forcing himself on us."

"He can force himself on me any time," I replied, "and it wouldn't take much force! I have tried to figure out how to get him into bed without actually raping him, but I haven't managed to yet."

Paula looked out the window. She seemed to be miles away as she said, "Mark is so different. Everyone else tries so hard to get me in bed, but Mark has the attitude that makes me feel like he cares about me for who I am, not just what I look like. That makes me want him even more!"

"I know what you mean.

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