After half an hour of what seemed like maximum effort for very little reward, except for sweat pouring from every conceivable place possible, along with an unquenchable thirst, she decided to cut her losses and hit the showers.
If she didn’t feel body conscientious before, seeing other naked women, all toned, perky and hairless certainly rammed home her insecurities. The only logical explanation she could muster as to how they looked the way they did, was because they were exercising or shaving when other ‘normal’ women were sat watching the soaps, eating a family share size bar of chocolate all to themselves.
She found herself staring at one particular woman’s breasts, reminiscing, trying to remember if there was ever a time when her own breasts sat upon her chest with nipples pointing outward. It had seemed as though hers had always had a close bond with her stomach. They were that close, her nipples pointed to the floor as if hanging their head in shame.