The department store was practically deserted for a Saturday afternoon. Caroline had spent the past hour in lingerie and must have tried on twenty bras but still couldn’t find just the right one. The problem, she knew, was the size of her breasts. They were just too big. The truth was, her whole body was just a little too bulky at five foot seven and one hundred eighty pounds.
The fitting room attendant brought her a couple more bras to try on. Handing them over the half door she assured Caroline, “These have some serious support and are still a little sexy, try them.” Caroline tried one on. She didn’t much like it. “Why can’t it look as beautiful on me as the model on the package?” she complained to herself. She knew the answer, the model on the package is a size five and wearing a 32B version of the 38DD Caroline had squeezed into. It felt like a rubber band. She tried taking it off then, but the hooks, all four of them, seem to be caught and twisted around a loose thread.
The fitting room attendant had introduced herself as Margie. Margie was no more than 21 years old, Caroline figured, and wore a size two skirt. She had little or no boobs visible to the naked eye. Hell, she probably didn’t even own a bra herself. “How would she know anything about fit and support?” Caroline groaned to herself, then asked Margie for her help.
