Push Ups Push Ups

“I just got a bra that'll make my tits a whole cup bigger!” I sing into my iPhone, talking to The Boy, my boy. "Es tikai ieguvuši bra, ka būs padarīt manu tits kopumā kauss lielāks!" Es dziedāt manā IPHONE, runājot ar zēnam, mans zēns. “It's so boss!” "Tas ir tik boss!"

“How many times did you go to Starbucks today?” he asks. "Cik reizes jūs nokļūtu Starbucks šodien?" Viņš jautā.

“Only three,” I say. "Tikai trīs," I say. “Anyway, this bra will satisfy me until I break into my IRA to fund my future Botox addiction.” I watch my face in a mirror, and my brows wrinkle at a shadow of a crease I find framing my smile. "Jebkurā gadījumā, šī bra atbildīs mani līdz I ielaužas manā IRA finansēt manu nākotnes Botox atkarības." Es skatīties manas sejas ir spogulis, un mani brows rieva pie ēnu uz vīli es atrodu ierāmēšanu manu smaidu. “That's really what my retirement stash is for, because the motherfucking Lord knows I'll be in my death bed, working, wordsmithing dirty stories while giving you a blow job.” "Tas ir tiešām, kāds ir mans pensijas atlicināt ir, jo motherfucking Lord zina I'll ir manas nāves gulta, darbs, wordsmithing netīrās stāsti vienlaikus sniedzot jums trieciens darbu."

“I've always admired your ambition.” "Esmu vienmēr admired savu mērķi."

“What about my tits?” I push my boobs higher, though they're already reaching for the sky in their satiny black Instant Shape bra, a gift from Dr. Rey's–BKA Dr. 90210–publicist. "Kas par manu tits?" I push my boobs lielāks, lai gan viņi jau panākt, lai debesīs to atlasveidīgs melnā Instant Shape bra, dāvanu no Dr Rey's-BKA Dr 90210-publicists. I suck in my stomach so it curves inward, like my thoughts: though my breasts are inflated, my ego's deflating as I remember the less swollen numbers of a dot-com I'm working on. I sūkāt manā kuņģī tāpēc līknes ievešana, piemēram, manas domas: kaut gan manas krūtis piepūsta, mans ego's deflāciju, kā es atceros mazāk swollen skaitu a dot-com Es izstrādā. I force myself from frowning, mindful of those wrinkles 'round my grin, and I wonder, “Why don't they make a push-up bra for self-esteem, or a cincher for accomplishment?” I spēkā sevi no drūms, apzinoties šo grumbu "apaļas mans ņirgt, un es brīnums," Kāpēc tie veikt push-up bra par pašcieņu, vai cincher par sasniegums? "

“Yeah, like you need one, you little cock sucker.” "Jā, tāpat kā jums nepieciešams, jūs maz gailis zīdējs".

“Thank you, pussy licker.” I smile, forgetting for a moment those parentheses lining my smirk. "Paldies, incītis licker." Es smaids, neaizmirstot uz brīdi tās iekavās uzliku manu smīns. “I'll be over in a couple hours, sir.” And I hang up, and I blink past typing hard and driving harder, and I'm in front of the super-sized door of The Boy's home, The Castle I call it, the equivalent of a Trump woman: all hyper-groomed, unapologetically enhanced beauty. "Man būs vairāk nekā pēc pāris stundām, sir." Un es piekārt, un es mirgot pagātni mašīnrakstīšanu grūti un braukšanas grūtāk, un es esmu priekšā ir super-sized durvīm zēnam mājās, The Castle I zvans tam ekvivalents ir Trump sieviete: visi hiper kopts, unapologetically uzlabota skaistumu. Against the tiled walls of his courtyard, a showcase fountain rains liquid sunshine, and the water falling onto the marble statue's perfect chest reminds me of gold-streaked hair cascading into amplified cleavage. Ņemot tiled sienas viņa pagalms, a vitrīna strūklaka lietusgāzes šķidrums saules, un ūdens, kas uz marmora statuja ir nevainojami krūtīs man atgādina zelta streaked matu kaskādes vērā vēl šķelšanās. I eat up the fount's beauty, while I phone The Boy: a doorbell is the only thing missing from a heavy door wearing diamond-cut glass. I eat līdzi rezervuārs's skaistumu, kamēr es tālruņa zēnam: a durvju zvans ir vienīgā lieta, kas trūkst smago durvju valkājot dimanta-kristāls. “Ding-dong, where's my dong?” "Ding-dong, kur ir mana dong?"

He cracks open the door's mini French windows, and I unhinge my leopard trench coat to flash my jet-black bra and panties. Viņš plaisas atvērtu durvju mini franču logi, un es apmulsināt manu leopards uzrakt mētelis mirgot manu jet-black bra un apakšbiksītes. “Look how huge they are!” I say. "Paskaties, kā milzīgs tie ir!" I say.

“Password correct.” The Boy stands in the entrance, covering the mouth of the door as it yawns open. Parole pareiza. "Zēnam stands in ieejas, kas attiecas uz mutes durvīm, jo tā yawns open. “Your tits were great already.” "Jūsu tits bija liels jau."

I slide in and out of his hug to check my figure sideways in his foyer's mirror. I slaidu un no viņa turēties, lai varētu pārbaudīt savu skaitlis sāniem viņa foajē's spogulis. “Good god, what good girls!” And then I lie for probably the fifth time in my twenty-some years: “I wore this bra just for you.” "Laba dievs, cik labi meitenes!" Un tad es gulēt, lai, iespējams, ar ko piekto reizi manā divdesmit dažus gadus: "Es valkāja šīs bra tikai par jums."

“So why don't you take it off just for me?” The Boy reaches behind my back. "Tātad, kāpēc nav jums noņems tikai par mani?" The Boy sasniedz aiz mana atpakaļ.

“No, no, not yet! "Nē, nē, vēl nav! I–” He smothers my protests with his tongue, and finally my desire for pleasure grows beyond my vanity, and soon we're naked in his bed, my carefully coiffed bob turned bedhead, my panties and bra wrinkled on the floor. I-"Viņš smothers mana protesta ar viņa mēli, un visbeidzot manu vēlēšanos izpriecu aug pēc manas rokas, un drīz vien mēs kaila savā gultā, mani uzmanīgi coiffed kniksis pagriezās bedhead, mans apakšbiksītes un bra krunkains uz grīdas.

“Your tits are perfect,” says The Boy, his soft kiss punctuating his declaration. "Jūsu tits ir ideāls," saka zēnam, viņa mīksto skūpsts punctuating viņa deklarāciju.

I survey my two mini mountains, but my thoughts fast trail to how I should worry less about expanding my bra size and more about my business. I apsekojuma manas divas mini kalni, bet manas domas strauji liecības par to, kā man būtu jāuztraucas mazāk par paplašinot mana krūštura izmērs un vairāk par savu biznesu. “You're right. "Jūs esat labi. They're pretty fucking fine.” Viņi diezgan riebīgs naudas sodu. "

“And see? "Un redzēt? I told you you didn't need a goddamn push-up bra for your ego.” I teicis jūs neesat vajadzīgs goddamn push-up bra savu ego. "

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