I knew there was something more that it was on top of, something complicated and mature that I would be able to look back upon with total clarity at some point down the road, but not then.

For some reason her breasts came to mind, locked behind the tank tops she wore in the morning.

Usually she wore slimming bras, plenty of underwire and gathered elastic to pull them up and back.

She didn't like her bosom for some reason I never fully understood. Thought it made her look fat or something. Couldn't find clothing for it.

Without her brassiere my girl looked normal, tucked in she look thicker torsoed.

Something in her wouldn't let her be a curvy woman.

She didn't often walk around braless but when she did it made her form wrong. Not wrong as in bad, because it wasn't -- far from it.

It was wrong as in looked soft, cushiony.

Breakfasts padding around the family estate, not indecent, just fuller and softer.

Made one suprised to find one last discovery hidden under there.