Some of it was elegant and tasteful. Some of it was drop-dead gorgeous – all lace and rich colour and fine styling. Some of it made me burn up at the thought – stockings, suspenders and… oh my life, a pair of crotchless red knickers to go with them. I held up a babydoll in floaty white – beautiful but so… sexy.
I took down my jeans and pulled my top off over my head, my underwear went next, and I took a breath as I looked at myself in the mirror. My flabby bits looked a lot less glorious in the morning sun than they did under lamplight. But so what?
I tried on the babydoll and pulled up the matching thong and my mind was made up.
I could actually get away with this…
I may be no supermodel, but the drape of the fabric hid my wobbly tummy, and the push-up bra did what it was supposed to. The thong was high on my hips and made my legs look longer than they were. I put my hand on my waist and turned, shot myself my sexiest look.
Fucking hell, maybe… just maybe…
I did another twirl and imagined Trent in the room. Would he look at me the way he used to? The way he did when I was still young and firm and desperate for his dick at every opportunity?
What about Buck? Hugh? Jimmy O? Would they want a piece of this? Would this be up to standard? Standard enough for young Petey, who’s probably more used to girls his own age..?
I shuddered at the thought.
And should’ve stopped thinking about it altogether, but I couldn’t.
I tried on the suspender belt and the crotchless knickers – Sweet Jesus! – then slipped on the racy little bra that went along with them. They complimented my new hair perfectly. One for the win. I just needed…
I reached into the wardrobe and tugged out a dusty box from the back. The cardboard was all battered but the shoes inside weren’t. I stepped into the ridiculously high black heels and did another twirl and it looked awesome, like I’d never stopped wearing them.
Shit. Maybe I could really do this…
Maybe I really could be sexy again…
Maybe, just maybe…
I snapped a crazy impromptu selfie, complete with pout, and sent it off to Tonya before I could change my mind. She called in a heartbeat.
“You look fucking incredible, Jo! Oh my God, you look amazing!”
I laughed. “Maybe I’m not quite past it yet.”
“Like hell you’re past it!” She paused. “So… you going to go in for the Mandy Taylor special? Since the rest of the village is doing it, why not?”
The thought of the school-mums getting down and dirty in Darren’s garage gave me weird shivers.
“Will you ever let it up?” I sighed. “I couldn’t…”
“Why?”
“Because… Darren… because of what we were… because I’m…”
“Scared?” she finished. “Christ, Jo, everyone is going to have the shits before they do something like this, and Trent’s Trent. It was a long fucking time ago. He does this shit for a living, he’s not going to get all fucking freaked out, is he? He’d probably do Nanna and not even break a sweat.”
I cringed. “Jeez, Tonya. Too much.”
She laughed. “Sorry. You know what I mean.”
Maybe she had a point. Not about Nanna, but about Trent being so mercenary about all this. I sighed, sat on the edge of the bed.
I heard her rustle about, flick the kettle on. “Answer me this. Is it over, really? Between you and Darren, I mean?”
My answer was instant. “Yes. Totally yes.” And it was over. We’d tried and tried before we called time, and that was years ago. Neither of us had made a move since, neither of us even hinted at it. Once upon a time I’d secretly hoped he’d turn all Casanova and howl at the moon outside my window, profess his undying devotion and climb up my hair to my bed, but of course he hadn’t.
He was with Stacey long before I ever contemplated getting with Brian, and they got pretty serious pretty damn quick. She’d even earned an engagement ring by all accounts, she’d gushed right the way around the village about it – and he’d never got that far with us, not even in all those years, which says a lot.
He was definitely over it. Long over me.
He wouldn’t even break a sweat.
“So?” Tonya prompted. “You need to get laid, and there’s a fantasy right there on offer. You’re over Trent, yes? Talk about kicking off your new lease of life in style. Back in the game with a boom!”
Was I over Trent? Yes. Yes, I was. Definitely.
“I’m going now,” I said. “Before you talk me into something I shouldn’t even be thinking about.”
“So you are thinking about it?” Her laugh was infectious. “Go. Get the bodywand out, weigh it up a little.”