I've got bionic nipples.
It's the weirdest thing. I went in for breast reduction surgery and I came out with bionic nipples.
My nipples are uber-sensitive. My nipples have a direct, and very electric, connection to my lady parts. (Remember when I lost my clit? Well, no need for alarm, because it's definitely back where it belongs.)
Some of you may think this is a wonderful, positive, development in my life. Having bionic nipples is tougher than you might think though. It's not good when you don't have control over your own body.
Especially since, did I mention … um, I'm not allowed to have sex for several weeks. Doctors orders. No sex under any circumstances.
Let me repeat that, I have bionic nipples and I can't have sex. Not even with my friend Rabbit. There are medical reasons for this, but I'm not going to bore you with them.
Now that I'm getting out and about a little, my nipples are causing all sorts of problems.
The other night Briefcase and I went out to dinner at Charlie Palmer with Briefcase's boss, Mr. CEO. It's very hard to find something to wear to a nice restaurant that looks good with a sports bra and protruding nipples. Mr. CEO doesn't know about my surgery and, of course, he wanted to hug me. I've never realized how often people hug in our society until it become painful to do so.
In any case, Mr. CEO leaned in and gave me a hug. I tried to concave my entire chest so he wouldn't hurt me. It worked pretty well, except his arm accidentally brushed across my breasts as we moved apart. Well, I nearly had an orgasm right there, fully dressed, with Mr. CEO and Briefcase dressed in suit and ties. I bit my lip, fanned myself off a little bit, and tried to distract myself with visions of Mr. CEO firing Briefcase on the spot for having an out of control wife.
Briefcase's eyes met mine and lingered for a few seconds too long. I'm not sure if he was simply intrigued with what he saw when he looked in my eyes, or if he was scared shitless his boss just gave me an orgasm out in public.
Bionic nipples, combined with no sex for weeks, are really a bad thing.
My biggest fear is that I'll turn into The Moaner. And dear Gawd, if that happens I'll have to go into hiding.
Last night I attended an Orange County bloggers event. It was held at the Irvine Spectrum. This is the second time I've attended a meet-up with these very nice folks. Several of them read Twenty Four At Heart and they were quite thoughtful in asking how I'm feeling and inquiring about my recovery. I'm still not feeling 100% so I didn't stay too long, but it was nice to stop by for awhile.
The problem occurred when I went to leave. I had parked in the Nordstrom lot and walked to the restaurant where we were meeting. As I returned to my car, I entered Nordstrom with the idea of cutting through the store to the parking lot. Right as I entered the store, there was a big group of hot, twenty-something men walking out. I somehow got caught in the middle of their group.
And I say that in both a very, very good way … and also, in a very, very bad way!
As I tried to extract myself from the middle of their group, I got jostled against a couple very (sigh) firm chests. Did I mention these guys were hot? As in, I all of a sudden had trouble catching my breath, hawt? And when one of them admonished his buddy, "Be careful of her!" and tried to help me by reaching across to grab my arm, but in the process brushing against my nipple …
Because my nipples are very out there lately, and everyone seems to be brushing against them, did I mention that?
And then … and then, I positively came undone right there in Nordstroms with all those hot guys surrounding me. It was nearly too much to handle.
So you can see, this is a problem!
I did talk to someone at the meeting last night who used to work in a plastic surgeon's office. We discussed this little … side effect … some women experience from reduction surgery. She said things should calm down a little in time.
In the meantime, what do I do? I can't go into hiding. Every day that goes by I'm regaining more and more of my strength. I'm getting back to my real life and real activities. I'm having nightmares of orgasms at the grocery store. I'm afraid I'm going to publicly embarrass myself.
Oh wait, I do that all the time anyway, don't I? (Publicly embarrass myself, not have orgasms at the grocery store!)
Honestly? I'd tape my nipples down if I could. My nipples, however, are still all taped up with surgical tape and I don't dare change anything until I see the doctor again.
What's a girl to do?
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