Heavy
Added 2019-01-22 21:59:59 +0000 UTCPrompt: a busty woman’s breasts are used against her in a trance.
I fell back against the white leather of the couch.
Heavy.
The word echoed as the slender woman who I had taunted as being ‘flat chested’ smiled at me. I’d accused her of flirting with my boyfriend, a good looking hunk of a man. We’d been going out since high school, back when I was the Queen Cheerleader and he’d been the staring Quarterback of the football team. We were the IT couple, hot, sexy and successful.
The woman had smiled at me, said something about him not really being her type and then had begun to talk about how heavy I looked. How heavy I felt. Was this twig of a woman, flat chested and looking like a lanky teen boy, suggesting that I was fat?
No, just that you look heavy. Your eyes, your head, your body. So heavy as your thoughts slow, heavy. Like a weight on your chest, weighing you down, pulling you down down more deeply.
I wasn’t sure how to react. I wanted to slap her, that stupid glasses wearing face with the knowing grin. But she was right, I did feel a heaviness fall over me. So I didn’t protest when she lead me to another room to sit down, to relax.
I felt listless, listening to her. She helped me remove my blouse and bra. Helpfully guiding me to the couch, to sit. To relax.
I fell back against the white leather of the couch.
Heavy.
