The Man Who Checked Out Women, Specifically Their Breasts

He didn’t remember learning how to calculate the value of a woman’s breasts. He simply knew they needed to be big, but not too big. Firm, not sagging. Perky, but round, not pointy. High up and looking forward, not low and looking off to the sides. And he knew how to weigh the rules. Small but perky was better than big but sagging. The calculation could be made in an instant; just a glance was more than enough time to evaluate them. Only if they were a 9 or higher would he permit himself a second glance, just so as to mark the find.
He looked around as he sat on a bench eating his lunch. Just scanning the area, he knew he wouldn’t find much. Where did the younger crowd hang out? Not here. The few suitable woman he did see where modestly dressed, even though it was summer. The rest were old, fat, or just ugly. It didn’t stop him from looking though. You never know when you might make a great find, and he didn’t have anything better to do anyway. 5. 4. 4. 6. 3. 4. 5. 4. 4. 2. 6. A heavily obese woman came by. She had the only cleavage he had seen that day. It was both a victory and a loss. He decided to give up and started walking back to the office. But still looking around, because you never know when you might make a great find, and he had nothing better to do anyway.
On the subway ride home he saw a 9. She couldn’t have been older than sixteen, accompanied by her mother and younger sister. She wore a tight tank top that exposed her flat belly. Over the top she wore an equally tight mesh top that served to accentuate how round they were. He wanted to steal a third glance, but didn’t dare, not with her and her mother sitting right across from him. Why was she dressed like that? She was young, but she obviously knew her breasts’ value. What a cynical world we are living in, he thought morosely.
He had an hour to kill before his wife would come home with the children. It was a great opportunity to watch some porn and masturbate, something he hadn’t been able to do it in a while, but decided against it. Instead, he played his new video game about killing zombies that his wife didn’t like him playing in front of the kids.
Laying in bed, he was still thinking about the 9 on the subway, determined not to forget her. What was the point of making such a great find if you just forgot about it? In his mind, he placed her next to the other 9's and 10's he had collected over the years. The woman in the white dress who’d been caught in the rain. The party girl in the low-cut top who bent over to pick up her phone. There must’ve been others, right? He searched his memory, feeling old. Like so often, he went back to the memory of his greatest find ever. In the summer of ’82 he saw a girl lose her bikini top after diving from the highest diving board at the local pool. Smiling to himself, he remembered when he used to get hard just thinking about it, but that time had long since passed. When his wife turned off her reading light he gave her a kiss, wished her a good night, rolled onto his side and went to sleep.

