The Mature Women

I hit my late 40s and my marriage of 23 years started to crumble. I decided I had to improve on me. I did what any co-dependent women would do. I threw out all of my granny panties I hit my late 40s and my marriage of 23 years started to crumble. I did what any co-dependent women would do. I threw out all of my granny panties and bras.

I decided to set out on a rediscovery of myself. I needed to visit a good Ole Victoria secret. This was an adventure for sure. As I walked down the corridor of our local mall, I wondered how I would get into the store without being seen. Only hoochie mamma ladies went to VS. Had I suddenly become one?

As I snuck into the store, I felt like everyone in the store was like "Hey grandma you are in the wrong place. Walmart is down the road." I was not deterred. I was determined to get sexed up. As I stared at all of the lacy items in the store, I smiled. I knew I was in the right place. The sales lady skeptically walked up and introduced herself a Carol. She asked me if she could help me find something. I am not sure she felt I was in the right place. I also don't think Carol liked my response of "My twenty-year-old body". Me the comedian, thought that was priceless. After she giggled and lighten the mood, She finally asked me my bra size. I hadn't changed my bras in like 20 years and wear the same of granny white pieces of material so I assumed I knew. Apparently, I did not know my old wore Down body had changed so much. She looked at me cautiously and decided to ask me, if she can make sure so We got the right fit. I am guessing she did not want to offend me. She carefully lifted up my droopy sagging examples of mother cleavage to measure my grith. She double checked her measurements and whispers to me 40 B. Wait, what! I am a 36 DD I have always been that size. She whispers to me "Not anymore". I now feel defeated. How would I going to turn this around to be sexy? I just mumbled to myself, tomorrow we start working out and maybe get breast enlargements.

She led me over to the dressing room. I stepped into the room and pulled off my grandma shirt. Why get dressed up to try on clothes? In a short minute, she brought me the first batch of plain Jane bras. I stared at them a moment and kindly tell her I need hot and sexy not slow and sturdy ones. I think there may be a section at the store where they kept the old granny lady bra ready for people like me. Carol turned around and headed for another batch. This time she brought 3 of the most complicated contraptions called bras, I had ever seen. I guess I can give it a try, where do I start? Not knowing it would be an all day project I tried to find the beginning of the straps. The first one had multi changing straps that apparently took me way longer to put on then a normal person. The Carol politely asked me if I need assistance. I think to myself are you going to come Home with me and assist every time I want to Wear it? I reassured her I was fine. I grab the next torcher device. It had a few less straps but felt like I was wearing a suit of armor. I decided to not even try the third one. I thrust my hand out the door with the bras as if to say serve me my lady. Carol headed out for round 3. This time she pranced back like a dog with her toys. I stare at the grouping in her hand. They looked like cute ones so I decided to give them a try. I am hopeful that they will make me look all Cute and sweet. Apparently not a chance. These pretty petite frilly ones would have probably looked cute if my sagging mom boobs had any fluff. They looked like a extra large cup Holder. At least I would have a place to put my coffee. I open the door and stared at her in disbelief. She saw my distress and decided on a different approach. She started by asking me some fancy bra questions about what I do in my day and how active I am. Do I want to dress up? What kind of clothes will I be wearing? Do I need active wear? I still had no idea what I wanted. I just blurted out "I want to look hot!" She flashed a smile of acknowledgement and She squealed "I have just the thing"! I think to Myself, is it by chance a set of new boobs?

I am waited patiently for my last set of torchers devices. I am sure I would be depressed with the selections because I couldn't imagine they made stuff for old ladies like me. She came back with some lacy examples that seem to Be calling out to me. They we lacy but not too much. They had one set of traps. That were a little thicker and supportive. I grab them, from her hand like she was going to run away. I fling the dressing room door closed and I started changing. The bras are light weight but sturdy. They have a little Cushion at the bottom and the labeled "Pushup". I giggled to myself "push up what"? I put on the first bra and grab my Mom Boobs and place them in the padded cup. "Oh Dear God, what is this magic?" I screamed. I have sexy boobs! Where did these come from? I feel like I am busting at the seams but in a good way. I am in heaven. I am started to look and feel Like a sexy women. I quickly try on the other two bras and they are wonderful. Where have these wonderful creations been my whole life? I flung open the door and before she can change her mind I yelled “Can I get matching panties?” Trust me, if they made adult garanimals, I would buy them. I have no color coordination or style.

Carol brought me 3 pairs of the cutest panties I had ever seen in person. As I started to examine them, I am wondering where did the pantie start and end? After years of full waisted granny panties, I expected more material for ladies of my stature. Carol sensed my apprehension and explained to me they were “Thongs” and I would get use to them. I just giggled, because I always made fun of the ladies on tv when they wore them. I am now going to be this hoochie women too? If it does the trick and gives me some sex appeal, that is all that counted.

I headed to the register with what amounted up to a month of car payments. This better get me some action.

I headed onward to continue my quest for Sexy momma look. I have been told to be sexy you must have a silky smooth lady bits. My normal, cleanly trimmed bush had been the go to for years. Do I really need to change now? I saw off in the distance a Waxing Salon. I heard the grand stories of the easy and simplicity of waxing salons. I guess I would find out for myself. I was not brave enough to try on my own that is for sure.

I look around before I walk in the door, again I did not want to be seen going into the salon. What would people think? Would the ladies in Bible study talk about me next week and call me a Jezebel? I decided I didn't care, I'm getting waxed and becoming a sexy woman.

As I walk up to the counter, I am greeted by a young lady who was all Smiles. She asked me. What services I wanted? Were there more than one? I'm sure it's about time for my hormone beard and my burly eyebrows to be tamed down. I lean down and whisper I need my lady bits waxed. She sits up and practically yelled you mean a Brazilian? I turn around in fear that someone had heard. Keep your voice down I did not want attention. She states at me and I stuttered "Yes, yes the Brazilian". She then asked me if I wanted, Sugaring, hard wax or strips? " What there was more than one torcher type? I mumble out “The painless one.” She giggled. Now I don’t think that was a good sign. I also wanted eyebrows, lip and chin waxed. With glee she shouts out" We Have A Special! " over her shoulder. I see several of the estheticians running up to the front like kids running to the ice cream truck. Should I have been scared?

I was taken to a room and told to disrobe from the waist down. I sudden felt like I was being prepared for a full cavity search which would have hurt less then what was about to happen. If you have ever had a Brazilian I salute you. I am told to assume the butterfly position. That sounds so sweet and innocent but at my age I was not sure I would be able to get my legs back. I was laying in that vulnerable position and I was second guessing what was about to happen. Before I could jump up and run out, the tech put on the first glob of hot wax. OMG the hot wax felt like it was going to burn of my skin. She gently pats the area and that did give a little bit of relief. With a flick of the wrist she ripped that wax off and I am sure 3 layers of my skin. I nearly jumped through the roof and She proudly said to me "We got a good bunch in that one". I am like what would a bad bunch feel like? The walls were pretty thin and I think I heard the person next door laughing. However I was not laughing. She started the second strip. I stopped her and told her to warn me first. She said it was better if she did not. Great! I really wondered what I was thinking in doing this. This pain and humiliation went on for 10 minutes. She explains to me I needed to flip over so she could get my bunny tail. Now I was totally confused. She can see my destress. “You know that little section that catches all the lint. Oh yes now I know what she was talking about. I call that my lint and hair catching zone. It is hard to reach and hard to shave. What seemed like an hour was done. My lady bits had been so violated I am sure it was going to punish me later. Next were the eyebrows. She grabs a comb and starts combing my brows. Did I really have old man brows? Some of that hair was at least 1 inch long and white. Then it was time for the wax. She dabbed on the wax and reaffirmed to me to not move. I was enlightened with the story about a client who had moved and was minus an eyebrow. That would not be a good look on me. I do not draw well and my eyebrows probably would have looked like an etch a sketch picture. The eyebrows went quick. She went on to lip and chin. Should I be offended when she asked me if I wanted my cheeks and sideburns to? I am a old mountain man. I whisper "Get it all, as I am not sure if I am ever doing this again."

I survived the waxing. Not an experience I wanted to entertain again. What should I do for my now cleanly waxed face? I never wear makeup. I just didn't have time in my busy schedule to spend painting my face. Let’s do something simple. I stopped over at Macy's and tell the excited cosmetologist gals they can have their ways me my looks. I cautiously pop into the chair and wait for my evaluation. I feel like an ant under the microscope. The gals discuss my game plan. “I just want to be pretty and hide my flaws.” I am guessing they might be thought get a brown paper bag. I saw a tech roll over a large cart of supplies. I suddenly felt like a stamping project. You know, the one you start and convince yourself that you will make 100s of cards but in reality, it is a place to hang your drying clothes.

Of course, my face could not all be one color tone. They tried toner, primer, concealer and cover up. By the time they finished I had $500 in makeup creams in a bag that I proudly carried out of the store. I wondered if I even looked like myself.

I am finally finished; I rush home to get all sexy for my husband. He was going to be so surprised for sure. I arrive home took my bags to the bedroom and threw my stash on the bed. Where do I start? I guess first things first. I grab the red lacy bra and pantie set from the bag. I want to be spicy tonight. I head over to the full-length mirror and take a full view. The new sexy ensemble almost makes me forget I need to lose 20 lbs. The bra has just the right amount of lift and I am surprised how well the panties fit. I keep telling myself I can do this.

I make my way to the bathroom and start the process of curling my hair. I did not have a lot so I used some of the 80s hair spray to give volume. Anything to make me look taller. I finished up my hair and touched up my salon installed makeup. Now to find something to wear.

I flip through all the clothes in my closet. With all of the shirts, dresses, skirts etc you would think I could find something. Nothing in my life was easy. I shrugged it off and pushed stuff around. I really did not own anything sexy or hot. I had professional clothes and beach wear. Nothing that screamed “Do me!” Then I had a thought. I saw way in the back a little black hanging bag. I briefly remember putting it back there. It was a gag-gift Halloween costume. My friends thought it would be funny to give me a little maid costume. I did not dare wear it as I was not 21 and 110 lbs. Thankfully they at least thought enough to get me an extra large size. I held it in my hands and stared at it for a few minutes. It is a new beginning why not try it. I pull the costume out of the bag. I pick up my leg up one by one and step into the costume. My first thought is how am I going to get this past my hips. I pull it up slowly as to not tear it when I suddenly hear a rip sound. “Seriously!” I slide the outfit around and was relieved to see there was some velcro that had popped open. I turned it back around and continue to pull it up. I get it to about my waist but how would I get it over my boobs and arms. I made the decision to pull it all the way up with the intention of feeding my arms back down into the arm holes. I didn’t think about the fact that once it was over my head I might not have the room to stretch the arms downward. So, there I was arms in the air over my head. I am wiggling around trying to get the costume up high enough that I can regrab the arm slots. I lost grip on the costume, so I can't pull it up or down. I am dancing around like a crazed women. My head is churning with ideas. I am thinking I can get a coat hanger and hook it on the sleeves and pull the outfit up enough so that I can grab it. So there I am trying to use the hanger to grab the material and finish my project, when I hear a deep voice say "Nice panties". Too my horror, My husband had walked in sometime during this process and was laughing at my struggles. Well, you could say he was surprised for sure. I did get the chance to model my sexy panties and bras. The plan was completed.