Many people in the area I live in always criticize my life choices. I live in a very reserved church going small town. The entire county has less than 10k people so people talk.
Before I met my husband I got my first set of fake tits. I was a 32A to start, so the first upgrade to 32C was for me. I felt more empowered, better about my image, I liked how I filled out bikinis and lingerie more. It was for men, but it was far more for me.
The second time I got them updated a few months ago was not for me. After my pregnancy and the upgrade I am sitting at a 34F now. It was, this time, for my husband who I love very much. When my husband and I have sex, he doesn’t make much noise. He encourages me to make noise, but I crave the primal grunts from him, the lack of control. One Sunday after our ritual afternoon sex and post coitus nap. I woke up to my husband climbing on top of me. The new tits had not been played with much. They were about 6 weeks from being done, and the soreness had gone away, so instead of waving him off, I let him put his cock between them.