Many times, girls have told me that they are envious of my removable boobs. If mine get too hot, or start making my back sore from their weight (which has totally happened) I can just pop them out and be on my way. Also, my boobs are always exactly as big as I wish, and always symmetrical. I've done boob size comparisons with coworkers (over the shirt of course, this was work, after all) and beat all the girls in the store because I chose to have a large set of knockers that day. I never go out in comically large boobs because they look ludicrous on my frame. The biggest I tend to go is the C-cup. but I usually stick to the B range since it looks the most natural on me.
So far I've made having fakies sound pretty great, right? Well, it really is more of a double edged sword.
I've had my boobs tumble out of my bra and down the front of my shirt. Luckily, my shirt was tucked in so they made it look like I had a lumpy gut. No one was there for that one, much to my relief. During our honeymoon, a pair of my sticky boobs got so hot in the car that they fused together permanently. Another were constantly carried off by our cat, who liked to chew and claw the hell out of them. Eventually, they were completely unusable and caused my skin to break out since I am allergic to cats and they were covered in his saliva. Oh yeah, and there's also the dreaded uni-boob, where your two fakes sink to the center of your top and you end up with a single, football shaped boob in the center of your chest.
Perhaps my worst experience with meandering breasts was last year when I went swimming with the wife and kids. Yes, I go swimming in girl mode quite often. I wore a purple tankini that did a great job keeping my inserts in place. We were having a great time in the water on that hot summer day. Then I got a bit too brazen and started diving and flipping into the pool. After about the tenth time I had done this, I came up feeling a little flat in the chest. My boobs were gone!
I spotted one almost immediately and snatched it, but I couldn't spot the other one. Noticing the concern on my face, my wife swam over and asked me what was wrong. I informed her of my situation and we began scouring the pool. The boob was clear, and its buoyancy made it float, not quite on the surface but instead a few inches below it. We enlisted the kids and even some kids who weren't ours (this was a public pool) in the hunt. Half an hour later, and there was still no sign of my prodigal breast. When we were about to give up hope, one of the boys took one last look in the pool filter. Lo and behold, there it was! I was so relieved to find it, and he was rewarded for his efforts with a candy bar.
The moral of the story is: always make sure your boobs are safely secured before any major physical exertion or you may end up with a very embarrassing situation on your hands.
If you have a ridiculous boob story you would like to share, please feel free to post it here in the comments!
