Carol held a hand-mirror so that I could have a better look, like a hairdresser showing me my new "do".Carol held a hand-mirror so that I could have a better look, like a hairdresser showing me my new "do". "With a little makeup, it'll be perfect!" she said. I couldn't believe it: I was about to get my crotch made up. What a make-over! I was really getting into this, as she glued a pair of reeyully convincing breasts to my chest. "Where did you get these?" I asked, "They can't be yours...you've never needed them." "They were. I was late to develop, and really self-conscious about it. But I don't need them anymore, and they're yours now." Except for the very edges, they looked like the genuine article(s). They bounced nicely (I couldn't resist jiggling "my" tits), they matched my skin color, and they had such nice rosy nipples. I couldn't resist pinching them...I almost felt the squeeze! "Don't worry about the edges," she said, "A little Dermablend will cover that nicely." And it did. They really looked real, reeyully! My very own boobs! "On the bed, on your back, knees up" Carol directed. "What is this, a gynecological exam?" I clowned. "When I'm done, you may be able to pass one," she said, applying more Dermablend and makeup color to my "pussy". |