Mythbusters: Tips for Tits

"I think this must be primal. Bigger boobs just... yield more satisfaction."

"CUT! That's a wrap everyone!"

Kari's polished smile quickly faded, replaced by an eye-rolling sense of relief. Thank goodness this day of filming was over. All she wanted was to get home, get out of her ridiculous bra contraption, and be alone. Three days as the object of attention behind the counter at Caffe Roma were too much. She was used to being on-camera, with a film crew and of course Tory and Grant. This was different - testing the breast size myth meant she herself was the focus. Scrutinized from every angle by Tory's hidden cameras. Ogled by hundreds of strangers. All while trying to maintain a consistent cheery demeanor to avoid biasing the results of the experiment. A grouchy barista wouldn't get tipped well.

She thanked the owners and staff of the cafe, and said goodbye to the crew. Tory and Grant caught her alone for a moment. "Are you sure you don't want to come back to M7? We're ahead on the planning for next week. Come chill out, have a beer, and we can laugh at Grant as he tries to teach his robot to play Pong."

"No, thanks guys. I really need a shower. And no offense, but if I have some extra time today, I'd rather pick up Stella early and spend it with her." The on-camera smile returned. She didn't want to let on how out-of-sorts she was. "Cool... have fun and we'll see you on Monday!" Tory and Grant left for the truck with another load of equipment. Kari was finally free to go home.

The relief from scrutiny did not come until she entered her apartment and closed the door. Walking back she got the same stares as she did on the way in this morning. She had not wanted to squeeze into the small bathroom in the cafe to remove her oversized bra with the heavy, sweat-inducing prosthetics. So that had to wait until she got home. Wow those things are uncomfortable, she thought. I bet Tory was falling all over himself trying to get the okay to make a pair for me... thank goodness the make-up department was able to find some off-the-shelf. Her windows were open, and the slight breeze felt good against her bare chest. Kari thought about grabbing a beer and sitting by the window to unwind, but what she really wanted right now was a shower. She tossed the pile of recently removed clothes and the fake boobs onto her bed and went into the bathroom.

Standing under the hot water, steam forming around her, she went through the motions of showering. Her mind was on the myth, and her reaction to it. Sure, men stare at sexy women, especially with big boobs. I'm sure lots of our viewers do the same to me. Knowing the fans admire my curves never bothered me before - heck, I even dress them up for the show - but maybe that's because it's impersonal... I don't have to experience the leering first hand, like I did all day today. At least I know I'm not missing out on a supermodel career... I could not handle it.

The shower felt good, but wasn't relaxing like she had hoped. What's wrong with me? What was it about being stared at that got me so upset? Is this a feminist thing? Am I miffed because I was just a piece of art, on display for everyone to appreciate? Her pondering was interrupted by a sudden jolt - of pleasure. She had absent-mindedly brushed over her nipples as she was soaping up. They were fully erect. It wasn't because she was cold - the water must be at 110 degrees, the way she likes it. Am I turned on??? Could I actually be aroused from all the attention???

Kari thought about the customers, both men and women, with whom she interacted today. She didn't need to review the footage to know that people enjoyed looking at her. True, it was mostly at her chest, but they did make a connection with her, looking her in the eye and smiling as they placed their orders and left their tips. There was something... well... nice about making people happy by being sexually attractive. There's nothing wrong with that, she thought. But why am I turned on by it? Is something primal at work in my brain too?

Her mind wandered to one of the customers, a college kid with a hipster goatee and hat. When he came up to the counter, he was shy, stumbling over his order. He stayed at the cafe to finish his coffee, trying not be obvious as he stole looks at her. She hadn't made the connection then, but now that she remembered the moment, she was sure there was a bulge in his pants as he left. Surprisingly, the thought that she turned this guy on aroused her.

Friends had told her about the fake nude pictures she appeared in on the internet, and the "Fan-Fic" stories about her getting it on with every linear combination of Tory, Grant, Jamie, Adam, and Buster. The idea of anonymous fans producing crappy Kari-porn did nothing for her; it was just a perverse extrapolation of their excitement over a hot chick on TV. But at the coffee shop, Kari got to see some of that excitement personally, and to her disbelief, she enjoyed it.

I wonder if he went straight home afterwards and jerked off to me. The thought made her want to touch herself more. I better take care of myself before I go out. Too bad Paul doesn't get back until tomorrow. It would be much more fun getting his help to "calm down". Kari finished rinsing, grabbed her plush, cozy towel and dried off. She didn't masturbate very often, even before Paul. When she did, it was simply a more pleasurable version of scratching an itch... she felt a twinge, made herself come, and that was that. Fantasizing was never part of it. Today was different.

Being a germaphobe limited her masturbation options. She didn't think consciously about it, but she really didn't like putting her hands "down there". Her method of choice was to lie face down on the bed with a pillow between her legs, and grind her vulva into it until she came. Then the pillow case went straight into the washing machine. Her phobia similarly affected her sex life with Paul and her previous boyfriends. Though satisfying, it consisted pretty much of just heavy petting followed by intercourse. She couldn't imagine oral sex, either as giver or receiver. Fortunately, she was able to orgasm through intercourse alone, something she once read was possible because her clitoris and vagina must be close together. Not that she'd ever look into that herself... some myths are better left to the real scientists.

Kari lay down on the bed and got the pillow into her usual position. Mmmm... this is what I needed all along. Get myself off and clear my head of these urges... that's the plan. She thought again about the college kid, who could be in his room right now doing the same thing. I wonder what that guy would do if he knew I was masturbating too... The possibility got her grinding harder. The faces of the other customers drifted through her mind. The pixie blonde woman with the sparkle in her eyes... The uptight businessman, the rush of his day interrupted by the stunning redhead behind the counter... The tall, chiseled African American guy with the easy smile... Looking at her, admiring her curves, their "lizard brains" getting aroused - over her. She thought about them watching her now... naked, hips thrusting rhythmically into her pillow, and it made her even more excited.

She had to give them a better show, so she arched up at her waist, put one hand on the headboard for stability, and caressed her breasts with the other one. She didn't think her audience would be disappointed that her breasts weren't quite as big as advertised - she loved the way they looked: curvy and full, with pert nipples just the right size. It felt amazing to be touching them while grinding away, and to imagine doing so in front of the people at the cafe.

In her mind, they were naked or undressing now too... Pixie had her hand between her legs, and the men were stroking themselves, everyone transfixed on Kari. Her breathing became faster and shallower. Her whole vulva felt swollen and sensitive. She really needed to come. But something was missing - she felt empty. Today, grinding wasn't enough on its own. It's ironic that I work with so many tools and technologies, and yet I do not own a single sex toy, she laughed to herself. A dildo would be great right about now.

Her thoughts drifted back to the businessman, penis sticking out of his suit pants, coming up behind her and entering her. With only the slightest hesitation, her hand slipped off her breasts, down her curves, and between her legs. She slid two fingers inside her vagina, cupping her ass. It felt good, but it wasn't exactly right. Somehow she managed to twist her wrist and elbow around so that her palm was face down to the bed. At this angle she couldn't slide her fingers in and out, but she could curl and uncurl them.

That was the magic she needed! The pressure built up inside her until she felt she'd blow like that water heater. Pixie was now caressing Kari's breasts, and African American Guy was standing in front of her, his penis bobbing inches before her mouth. She took the fantasy penis in and began licking and sucking it. Suddenly, she imagined Businessman tensing up, his penis erupting inside her. The one in her mouth began to ejaculate too, slipping out and squirting onto her face. And Kari's orgasm exploded within her, the shock wave ripping through her, throwing her into convulsions. She imagined what it would look like on the high-speed camera, everyone watching her come in slow motion, and this prolonged the ecstasy, waves of it rolling over and over her. She was moaning and gasping so loud she worried the neighbors would hear.

With the immense relief of her orgasm, she finally began to relax, letting the reality of what just happened sink in. She rushed to the bathroom to wash her hand, and then laughed. Was putting her fingers inside herself really that bad? Using my fingers like that was incredible, she thought. It felt so good when I started to... Wait... Could it be that I have a G-Spot? Now there's a myth that Tory and Grant would love to test. Sorry guys... that'll be for me and Paul. Kari tentatively put her fingers up to her nose. They smelled... interesting... not bad at all. Maybe Paul wouldn't mind the smell either. Perhaps there are some other experiments that Paul and I can do... like, can someone afraid of germs enjoy oral sex, for example? No way is he coming on my face though... and I'm certainly not swallowing. We'll have to figure that one out.

Kari realized something. The supposedly anonymous and objectifying attention she had received today touched her in a very personal way. So much so that it may have sparked a change in her. The thought warmed her inside. It certainly revved my engine, she giggled. Those fake boobs earned more than tips... thanks to them, I'm thinking about sex in a new light. Maybe I can expand my horizons a little. This is going to be interesting.

Back in the shower to rinse off, Kari was struck by a great project idea. She'd sneak Paul into M7 some night soon, to make a mold of his erect penis for the next time he's gone. I'm not buying an anonymous, factory-made dick when I have a perfectly good one to copy right here. I'll need to figure out how to keep him hard while the amalgam sets... Hmm... that's going to be quite a technical challenge. Kari mused about this as she got dressed, and then happily headed out to enjoy the rest of her day.