’ His eyes traced her neckline, her curves, and settled on her tightly bound breasts. Then back to her eyes. Hey, I saw that, she thought. ‘Please... get comfortable.’ ‘Thanks. I’ll try.’ His office was furnished in early Sigmund Freud. The classic therapist couch (I’ve never seen one of those for real, she thought). Dark wood. Comfortable rug. Broad desk with a single file open. Large chair for him. Sit down, he said, offering the chair to her. He sat on the couch. He swung his feet up and. I was happy with my newfound knowledge. But it was very long before I would recognize the sizes with a glance of my eye.I rushed out and went shopping, picking up all the things. I packed all the items in my bags so that the grocery items were on the top. People will not give suspicious looks. It was an embarrassing moment asking for the blouse and handling them to check.I used my imagination how my mom would look in a particular blouse. But somehow, I managed. By the time I reached home, it. More

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