Open her blouse

"I do," you tell her. You reach for her blouse buttons and start to undo them. Vivian does nothing to stop you, and smiles at you happily as her cream bra comes into view, followed shortly by the spilling of her bra-clad breasts out of her blouse.

Finally you open her blouse completely. You move in to take off her bra, and again Vivian does not object to your entering her personal space.

A moment later, you have her bra in your hand, and Vivian's proud new tits are jutting straight at you. You take a moment to admire the rock-hard nipples and the rosy areolae. They do seem a bit unnaturally firm, though.

"Did you get a boob job?" you ask Vivian.

Vivian smiles but looks at you like you asked a silly question. "Yes, John," she says playfully condescendingly, "like almost every other girl, I got a boob job when I was 18."

"How come?" you ask.

Vivian smirked. "Because it made them more sensitive, silly. The whole next day I stayed in bed playing with them. And the next sleepover I had at friends, god what a night that was!"

You bring your hand to her chest, and Vivian gasps gently. You trace your fingers around, and you can hear Vivian's breath quickening. You're not sure why Vivian's entire tit would become so sensitive after a boob job, but you aren't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. "I can't feel any scar," you say.

Vivian frowns slightly. "Why would you? I mean, I remember that one of my great aunts said that she had a scar from her boob job, but that was like sixty years ago. Have you *ever* noticed a scar on a woman's boob?"

You have to admit that you haven't. "Sorry, silly question." You think about what she said. "What was that first sleepover like after your boob job?"

Vivian tilts her head at you, smiling but a bit surprised at your question. "Oh, you know. The first time me friends could have a go at my chest after the operation. They were completely *merciless*. They got my tits out the minute we met to go for pizza, and I don't think I went for more than about a minute the whole night without one of them groping at me or suckling at me. I didn't get any sleep that night either. But I got them back when *they* had their girls done!" she laughed.

You look around you at the party: you don't see anything like that going on here. "Why don't girls do that more often?"

"Oh well," says Vivian dismissively. "We were just girls, exploring each other's new chests and having a go at each other. Apart from you, or really close friends, it's only the occasional lesbian who comes up to me to play." Her tone is still conversational, though it is starting to get huskier.

Meanwhile, you're still marvelling at Vivian's tits: they are a work of art, and their warmth in your hands is making you hard. You flick a nipple and she makes a squeak.

They are a pleasure, to her as well as yourself apparently, as she sighs from your tracery. More than a few male guests are also looking appreciatively at Vivian's chest as you trace your fingers over her mammaries: not obtrusively, but not subtly either. "How do you feel about everyone looking? All the guys?"

Vivian relaxes and smiles. "They can look all they want so long as you're playing with them, John. You know that I'm always happy for you to do whatever you like with my tits. Though frankly, I'm wondering when you're going to get around to fucking them," she says, nodding down at your crotch. "I haven't had the chance to give you a proper tittyfuck for months, since you left university."