I used to sort of consider myself an expert on breasts and breast theory. Breastism, as I like to call it. I could tell you if they were fake or real at just a cursory glance. Even half-covered. I based this expertise on the fact that I’ve seen (and felt) so many of them in my day. I’m talking like five or six of them, okay? Yeah. But, as any technology, I guess, so has this one advanced with age.
Breast implantism. I guess with enough years, and having found the right ingredients, we can expect them to look more and more real as the doctors get better and better at making the fake titties. If you’ve read half of what I’ve written, you know I stand against this. I would take small, funny-shaped saggers over perfectly formed fake ones anyday. And that’s because of how they feel. You can make them look as much like what you think is “the perfect breast” as possible, and if they don’t feel right – meh. I’m out.
Unless… Well, unless they feel like these look like they would feel. I could be wrong entirely, and these could be real as – well, real. But I remember a few short years ago when hers looked like they could fit in my hands with some room to spare. Now all of a sudden they’re bigger than my head?
Well, either way, they look really (really) good to me. I have the ultra-hi-res version of this too, if anyone is interested. And either way, until I get to put my hands on them and prove myself wrong (or right, for that matter) I am pleased to say thank you, Leelee.