I always wanted to stand out from the crowd, so when my divorce settlement came through, I knew exactly what I’d splash the cash on…
By Sharon Perkins, 50, from Bulgaria
Stirring my sixth cup of tea of the day at my work desk and blankly staring into space, I sighed.
Surely there’s got to be more to life than this? I thought.
My job as an office administrator was duller than the white sheets of paper I filled the photocopiers with – and things at home weren’t any better.
Life with my hubby of 11 years, Paul, had become boring. Our marriage had grown stale and I had long felt like I was stuck in a rut.
We both worked really long hours so hardly ever saw each other. And even when we were together there was nothing interesting going on.
Paul and I spent endless evenings clicking through television channels and eating our microwave dinners off our laps in silence.
I was bored and frustrated – how did my life become this mundane?
Then one day my phone bleeped with a text message from an old friend, Lisa. ‘Hey chick, fancy a few drinks out on the town?’ it read.
I beamed. A good night out was exactly what I needed – a bit of excitement to break up the dreary routine.
‘Absolutely. Let’s do Friday,’ I quickly typed in reply, buzzing.
The days leading up to the big night out seemed to drag by – I couldn’t wait for a bit of merriment!
I met Lisa in a local pub and we went on to dance the night away in a nearby nightclub. It was the most fun I’d had in years.
Lisa was gorgeous and had a pair of huge beautiful fake boobs – she was never short of attention.
As she had flirty fun with blokes in the bar I found myself longing for a bit of that myself.
Looking at her chest I thought, ‘I actually wouldn’t mind a pair of them…’
At a 36D I was hardly flat-chested, but Lisa’s boobs were just so high and huge and I couldn’t help but admire them.
After that night, I started going out most weekends. It was a much-needed burst of colour in my dreary, monotonous life.
Then a few months later, one night in September 2012, I met Carl, 50, a bouncer at a local club. Feeling cheeky, I grabbed his bum and flashed him a saucy smile.
To my surprise, he winked right back. ‘Naughty girl,’ he purred, and I couldn’t help but blush.
Carl and I hit it off straight away and six months later, in March 2013, I ditched my slow and steady husband and moved in with my hunky new boyfriend.
No break-up is easy, but it was an amicable split between Paul and I – we really had just grown apart.
The divorce process went smoothly over the next few months and I was awarded a large settlement.
When I heard how much I was getting, I instantly knew what I wanted to spend the money on: a huge new set of boobs.
For years I had been longing to stand out from the crowd and this was finally my opportunity to make a real difference. I thought if I was going to do it then it was going to have to be in a big way – literally.
When I confessed my idea to Carl one night in bed, he loved it.
‘Babe, you will look so sexy,’ he said, running his hands over my body. ‘Even sexier that you are already… if that’s possible.’
I giggled, over the moon that he was on board with my extreme idea.
Together, Carl and I excitedly researched clinics for my surgery and settled on one in London with a great reputation. The procedure to go up to a 36H was going to cost me £4,500 but I knew it would be money well spent.
And besides, my generous divorce settlement would more than cover it.So in December 2013, I went under the knife to boost my bazoomas.
When I woke up groggy from the operation, I couldn’t contain my grin as I saw my new massive melons sticking out from under the blanket.
Despite the pain, I instantly knew I had made the right decision. It took six weeks for the swelling to go down but I was head over heels in love with my new colossal chest.
My boobs made me feel so confident and sexy. I didn’t realise how shy I had been before the operation until I got this new boost.
But just six months later I longed for more. ‘What do you think about me going even bigger?’ I bashfully asked Carl one day.
His face broke out into a toothy grin. ‘Do it,’ he replied eagerly. ‘What an amazing idea.’
I couldn’t contain my happiness.
If I feel this good now, how am I going to feel when my breasts are even bigger? I thought to myself gleefully.
Straight away, I contacted the London clinic and they booked me in for another consultation.
‘I’d like them as big as possible, please,’ I told the surgeon.
He examined my chest and made sure there had been no complications with the first surgery, then nodded.
‘The implants you want are the largest there are on offer in the UK,’ he explained. ‘I can perform the surgery but you will have to wait.
‘We don’t make implants that size in this country so they will have to be ordered in specially from America.’
I didn’t mind waiting. All I could think about was how big and beautiful my bust would become when the implants arrived and I had them put in.
Desperate to improve my body further, I dieted in the months before the operation and slimmed down by three stone.
I could see my body becoming sexier and my confidence was sky high.
Then in May 2015, I splashed out another £5,500 from the divorce dosh and went under the knife again.
This time when I woke up, my chest measured a whopping 32KK and I felt amazing.
The recovery the second time around was much quicker. I knew what to expect and was so happy with my new look that I wouldn’t let anything get me down.
There was just one problem: none of my clothes fit me any more! Because of my new giant chest and tiny waist, I needed a whole new wardrobe.
Carl took me shopping and bought me stretchy tops to squeeze my gigantic girls into and lots of new strappy dresses – all very low cut and revealing.
Carl wanted me to show off my new breasts and I did too – we were both so happy with the results of my surgeries.
I felt confident and sexy and ready to take on something else I had been thinking about for years: glamour modelling.
Carl and I had already taken some kinky snaps in the bedroom, so I asked him to take some pictures of me to post online.
Posing with my new body on show I felt empowered and unstoppable.
For years people had complimented me and said I should give modelling a go, and now I finally felt confident enough to give it a proper shot.
Before long, I was taken on by agencies for glamour and adult work.
My whole life has changed. I have reinvented myself and I am happier than I ever have been before.
I quit my boring old office administrator job and moved with Carl to Bulgaria to renovate a farmhouse in July last year.
While I wouldn’t say I was addicted, I think with cosmetic surgery there’s always room for improvement – or in my case room to get bigger.
I have thought about filling my bulky bust even more and contacted some surgeons in Europe but at the moment they don’t go bigger than I am already.
I think more humongous implants would look even more amazing – they just make me feel good, not to mention improved my sex life dramatically.
I don’t think my ex hubby Paul approves of what I spent his settlement cash on. I didn’t tell him about my plans before the operations and he gave me some odd looks when I visited our daughter at his home, but really it’s none of his business.
It’s been worth every penny and my life has changed so much since I ditched my dull marriage. Our marriage went bust and my boobs went boom, and I don’t regret it for one minute!