“That will barely get you up to a C-cup, you know,” she told Erika. Erika agreed, as that was largely where she had started. The nurse made ticking sound in her mouth, temporizing. Then she said, “The doctor doesn’t like to say this, because it ultimately makes more money for the practice, but, um… the number one regret we see from patients, and we don’t get many regrets, comes from women who got a modest enhancement and realize afterward that they could have gone for more. A lot of them feel strongly enough about it that they come back for a second procedure.”
Erika laughed, then asked, “Really?”
The nurse looked at her, then tossed a quick glance over her shoulder at me, “Honey, in your case, we are taking about 100% elective cosmetic surgery, or in coarser terms, you are here to pay big bucks for big tits. Why spend thousands on ‘enhancements’ that just get you back to where you started?”
“I don’t want to look silly…” said Erika quietly.
The nurse cleared her throat, deliberately moved between us so her back was squarely facing me and lifted her scrubs top up. “Do these look ridiculous to you?”
Erika stared. “No,” she breathed quietly. Then her voice sharpened. “You can go around with those and not wear a bra?”
“Ha! Now you are asking practical questions! Honestly, I usually wear one, except at work or on a date. It is just a bit more comfortable. Here I don’t wear one, well, because women sometimes like to see the doctor’s work beyond that sample picture book he loves so much. Go to 400 or 500ccs, and this is about what you’d get. Go on. Feel them a little. They don’t look OR feel silly, do they?”
Erika touched the woman’s chest softly. “Wow,” she breathed, avarice suddenly in her eyes.
“I feel left out of this decision making process,” I observed drily.
The nurse just shot my a playfully repressive look over her shoulder, and pointedly did not offer to let me evaluate things. Erika snorted and lifted one hand from the nurse’s ‘exhibits’ to flip me a cheerful bird.
She went with the 400cc job.
I recounted a rather dry version of the story to Peter, who asked a question of two that seemed quite clinical and tame. I thought he was about to get to the ‘how do they feel?’ questions that guys always want to ask. Guys never actually do ask, but I always half-dread, half-anticipate they will. I think Peter really was going to start asking impertinent (but highly pertinent) questions when he was interrupted.
“Peter, dear,” called Sara, stepping around to face us and incidentally moving so that her nipples broke the surface of the water, “I’m thirsty. Can you get us some acrylic glasses so Erika and I can drink in the pool?”
Peter excused himself and sauntered into the kitchen, returning with four heavy plastic tumblers. He poured the women’s drinks into the tumblers and walked over to the pool’s edge. Kneeling down he handed the glasses in. I noticed that he had approached the pool nearer to the shallow end so Erika had to come into the shallower water to get hers. Bastard even held the glasses fairly high so both women had to reach way up to get their drinks.
Peter turned and wandered back to me, where he transferred our drinks to the plastic tumblers as well.
“Thought better of using glass poolside?” I asked, taking my whiskey back.
“No, I figured we’d get in too,” chuckled Peter, unbuttoning his shirt. I saw both women watching suddenly intently as the shirt came off. Peter might be shorter than me but he did put on quite the gun show. A completely polished and waxed gun show. He started unbuckling his shorts and asked me, “Coming?”
“Uh, maybe in a few minutes,” I temporized.
“Ha! Got a hard on?” laughed Peter. “Come, it’s not like they don’t realize they are smoking hot.” With that, he shoved his pants down to reveal that he did indeed think they were hot. He turned, grabbed his glass and hopped lightly into the pool.
His waxing extended way down below his torso.
A naked dude with a pubeless hard-on just called my wife smoking hot. I was trying to process that when I looked up to see Peter in the pool between Sara and Erika with his arms on both their shoulders. “Coming in?” he called. Erika didn’t even look too weirded out by the naked guy draping his arm around her. His hand would probably have been dangling on her breast if it hadn’t been holding the glass. She did look a little scandalized, but mostly she looked like she was challenging me to freak out as much as she had.
Yep, reality-warping field still in place.
Every basic instinct, every habit, screamed at me to sit right there and hide my erection from public view, but I also immediately realized that being the only clothed person in a group of naked folk was very nearly as embarrassing as being the only naked one in a room full of fully dressed people probably was.
Screw it. I stood and pulled off the pink, fuchsia, shirt. I might not be as jacked at Peter, I thought as I undid my fly. But I was taller.
Longer, too.
I took a deep breath and tugged my shorts and underwear down. I didn’t bother to try to be modest about it either. I faced right at Erika and our friends. If I was going to do it, I would follow Peter’s lead. I figured that brazen would be less embarrassing and less attention-grabbing than silly covering up. My dong bounced free and waved around as I dropped my pants. I picked up my drink and casually as I could, walked over to the pool. Inside, I was on fire with nervousness. What the fuck was I doing? What were we ALL doing? I sat down the edge and slipped into the water. Brazen might have felt better than rushing while holding a hand over my junk, but I was still very much the center of the undivided attention of everyone while I approached the pool.
It was cool, almost cold, but alas, the temperature did not shock my erection away when I slid into the water. That condition was apparently not abating anytime soon, not with Erika and Sara standing naked in front of me. At least my cock was nominally out of sight once I was fully in the pool. Nominally. The pool had good underwater lighting and the evening was getting darker all the time. The water might have distorted what you could see within it, but it hid it less and less as night kept falling.