Mother and Daughter and New Boobs
Very little was said.
Very little needed to be said.
And frankly, neither wanted to say anything.
Mom, at the youthful age of forty-two, without telling anyone but her husband had the momentous surgery to enhance her breasts.
When the kids came home for Thanksgiving it was obvious.
And so was her joy. And her pride. And her resolve. Are her backbone.
Her daughters said little. Her sons said less. Wives said little. Husbands said nothing. Hurray for the otherwise low-key mom and mother-in-law.
Late on Thanksgiving night mom and one of the daughters were talking. The subject came up and mom shared the backstory, the trepidation, the surgery, the recovery, and some of the reactions of friends and family and co-workers.
And her daughter asked, “What does it feel like, mom?” Meaning, out of curiosity, what is it like to have them, what has changed, what’s different in bed, what do they literally feel like compared to your former natural breasts, and what’s the difference in just living with new and different breasts.
Moms first response was that the physical feel of them was far beyond what she expected. And in the same breath, as only a mother and daughter could do, mom said, “Feel them. The difference will surprise you.”
Mom lifted her shirt, her bra, and her daughter hesitantly reached and touched her mother’s left breast. In reality she poked it with her index finger. And with that the daughter let out a soft, “Wow.”
Her breast was quite soft. But there was an unnatural firmness too. Almost an enviable firmness. A youthful, sensual, feminine firmness.
After the poke came the lift. First with right hand, then with both her right and left hand. The weight felt normal. After the lift came the hold. Two hands. Palms out. The kind of hold all women do. The kind of hold a woman does sexually to herself, as well as instinctively to cover up.
The hold had a different affect than expected. For mom it was validating. Her new and larger breasts were worthy of a gesture that brought a direct, strong reaction. For her daughter it was a spontaneous act of curiosity and inquiry. For mom it was also sexual, not in a horny, overt sense, but a sensual, subtle sense. It felt good. For her daughter it was also sexual, but not in an intentional way. She felt it emotionally. Not for her mom, no. But the sudden sensation of physical, human, sexual beauty.
Besides the “Wow.” that was said a few moments ago. Nothing else has been said. And nothing else will be said from here on out.
She kept her hands on her mom’s breasts for several moments longer than would be expected by either of them. But that was okay. For mom it was the pleasure of being touched innocently, but intentionally. For the daughter it was the innocent pleasure of touching beautiful breasts.
Neither felt rushed or awkward. Neither felt weird or odd or dirty. Neither felt greedy or lusty or perverted. Both felt normal. And how her hands lingered a bit longer than expected felt mutually acceptable and good.