Everyone had boobs except me. I looked at my two friends when they wouldn’t see. We all had our nice PJs on. Mine were silky, from New Look. Navy polka dot short shorts and a blush pink strappy vest. There was a supportive crop top inside which I had to keep pulling down.
Bryony wore a bra even when she slept. She had actual cleavage and proper brown nipples. She wasn’t shy about getting changed. Pippa’s were smaller but her nipples poked through her Jack Wills vest. Mine never poked.
“Oh em gee! Shall we play Dreamphone?” Pippa said, distracting me from her B-cups. I joined in with the squeals and claps of agreement. It would be “hilare” according to Bryony. Pippa slithered under her bed, pushing dusty boxes until she found the old childhood game.
“I’ve just heard. It’s not Tony,” came a tinny voice from the pink plastic phone, followed by a chorus of oohs and cackles. A fifth of a bottle of vodka from the parents’ cupboard was circulating now. We all took tiny sips. I felt it burn down my tubes and enjoyed the swimmy feeling that came with it.
“He looks cool in whatever he wears,” said the phone. I wasn’t sure if we were still playing. Pippa was lying on her front now, her boobs squished. It made them look bigger.
“Oh my God, I would totes do Tony. Look at him!” She lent her face right into the board and made a moan grunt at his thumbnail portrait. “Who would you have, Mill? Except Tony. Obvs.” We all giggled.
“Ooh erm.” I faked a look of pained struggle as I made my way around all the handsome faces on the board. “It’s gotta be Ryan,” I said. He was tanned with blue eyes and floppy blonde hair. It still wasn’t the right time to tell them I didn’t really think of any boys like that.
No comments:
Post a Comment