More than once Vickie had locked herself in the bathroom—even when her husband wasn’t home—and took a few practice pictures of her naked breasts. Every picture looked uniformly awful. She did all the usual things to make the pictures look better: wash the mirror, check the angles, and improve the lighting. But nothing she did could make up for the fact that her breasts were just awful.
And the worst part was that back in high school and college and the years before she had children, Vickie had been proud of her t**s. They weren’t too small or too big; the n*****s were perfectly centered and slightly upturned. More than once she had been the one to suggest skinny dipping with her friends just so she could show off her breasts. She had liked the attention the boys paid to her t**s. She was
