Twenty three and living alone. No girlfriend, no-one to answer to. I did have a mail order catalogue though and I did enjoy leafing through the women's underwear section. I particularly enjoyed the suspender belts, girdles and stockings.
Then one day I thought, "why not buy a bra? no-one will know any different, it's fairly anonymous". I roughly measured myself up and ordered something approaching the right size. Almost in a daze, I posted off the order and impatiently waited for my package to arrive.
Several days later, the package arrived and in a state of unbelievable excitement I opened the parcel to reveal the rather dull looking item within. A quick trial confirmed that the chest size was correct, but oh, the cups were rather flat. I needed breasts. But what to use?
I tried socks..haha..no.
Hmmm, think.
Balloons!
I don't have balloons. Where can I buy balloons?
Hmmm, the shop up the road sells all sorts of things, maybe they sell balloons.
So, off I trotted to the general store up the road. Upon arrival I casually enquired whether they sold balloons and was inwardly ecstatic when the shopkeeper said they did sell them.
"What sort do you want?"
Bugger. "Oh, anything will do thanks. They're only for a kids party". Some party!
So, with my pack of assorted balloons I walked home as quickly as I could and breathlessly opened them as soon as I got through the door. I put the bra back on and (oh dear) blew up one of the balloons. Poking it gingerly into one of the bra cups it became immediately apparent that this didn't feel authentic at all; any lighter and I would have floated off. Too light, they need some weight. Water!
Would you believe I filled them with cold water? Jeez that was incredibly cold. Warm water followed; much better. Wow, that felt good. A nice weight and my did they jiggle! My new breasts felt so wonderful in my nicely fitting bra. The old feelings of doing something I really shouldn't be came rushing back. It felt so wrong, but so right. How could something so nice be wrong? I wasn't hurting anyone else; but over the following weeks I did go through the atypical roller coaster ride of pleasure and guilt. Eventually, after a few weeks of this the bra and the balloons ended up in the dustbin and so did my femme side; for the next twenty years.
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