Josie knows she's been reborn. She's undergone the most total and authentic renaissance of any woman she'd ever heard about.
Three months ago, Josephine Rickardson was a lonely 54-year old childless divorcee, living alone in Frankston, a southern district of Melbourne, Australia. Earlier in her career, when her ex-husband Peter had been a college teacher, she'd worked for the local government administration. In recent years, she's been the headquarters receptionist at a major advertising agency in Melbourne. She's been known as a pleasant lady, with a friendly personality, good at her job and better preserved than many women of her age. With a Size-12 figure [that's US size10], standing 5ft 5ins tall and with her flowing dark brown hair, courtesy of L'Oreal she admitted to herself. She looks striking and attractive. Just what the company always wanted for a receptionist.
But Josie had given up all thought of attracting anyone. Certainly, she'd no plan to find another man and had resolved herself to a life alone, with little personal excitement.
About 5 years after Peter left the house, she'd had a brief fling with a married man who knew exactly what she wanted and needed. He'd revelled in her sensuality and over one particular aspect of her outfit. He'd bought her firm and controlling underwear: girdles, corselettes, real corsets, long bras, compression stockings. Josie had come to revel in them also and come to associate excitement with those foundation underclothes. In that sense, she became a fetishist: no corsetry meant no orgasms. For a few months, she enjoyed her orgasms with this man and he taught her to use her underwear to excite him.
The more firmly she dressed, the greater his excitement and the stronger were both of their orgasms. She let him do as he wished on and in her body. He plunged into her and used her corsetry to tug her around. He took her "bottom and top" as she called it to herself, meaning vaginal and throat. He bent her into impossible curves and contortions; shapes she had thought totally unattainable. But she took all he did and gave to her, and her orgasms became frequent, intense and long-lasting. Together, they wrecked her underwear time and again. In their time together, he bought replacement outfits many times because they ruined her girdles, corselettes, corsets and bras with their antics. And her stockings never lasted more than a few hours. They went to bed with her fully dressed and frequently she woke up hours later dressed in wreckage; with girdle-bones sticking out, broken suspenders, unusable zippers, and everything stained with his juices and hers. She loved the whole experience and every episode.
But he was married, after all, and their friendship came to an end.
Since then, she'd experienced no sexual excitement at all. To be honest, her husband had given her little excitement as such, so she had no experience of anything erotic before her affair. As she sat behind her reception desk, she'd given up all thought of sexual adventure, but still longed to use her corsetry-skills again before it was "too late."
Retirement was looming, and she'd begun to take things easy. Accordingly, Josie has dressed to relax and to be comfortable at all times. And why not? No one seemed to notice her any more; so she covered herself in flowing dresses, loose trousers, big sweaters in the winter. She'd become an invisible woman and regarded herself in that way.
Until 14 weeks ago, that is. It was then that David Lambert was appointed as Chief Operating Officer; second in command of the company. In effect, he ran and made decisions for the business because the CEO was 2,200 miles away in Perth. She saw David on his first day, as he arrived for an all-staff meeting. Walking across to her reception desk, he introduced himself and they shook hands. Josie noticed that he spent a few extra seconds holding hers, and his eyes wandered up and down her figure. She noticed, also, his strong hands, tall forehead, full lips and the way he walked with deliberation and a slight sway. He was, without doubt, the kind of man her mother would have called "dangerous"; meaning good-looking and probably well-experienced in all matters sensual.
Over the next few days, David established himself as COO and came to her desk every morning and evening. Always, he spoke to her in his soft voice and looked straight into her eyes all the time; except that he always roamed his view over her figure as he left. As each day went by, Josie found herself looking forward to his next short visit to her desk and, of course, this had two effects on her.
First, she decided to dress a little more carefully each morning; to choose clothes that complemented her hair-colour and fitted her figure a little more closely. She bought rather shorter skirts and more frilly blouses; and took out her slinky underwear from its long-forgotten drawer in her spare room. For the first time in over a decade, she started to wear a nice bra; longline, underwired and lacy, designed to hold her ribs gently while pushing her breasts upwards a little. And stocking-tights [pantyhose in US]; and smooth-fitting tight briefs made with nylon and Lycra. For the first time in a decade, she wanted to wear clothes that shaped her figure and "held her in place" as she thought to herself. She chose shoes with heels a little higher than usual. Not skyscrapers, but two or three inch so that she had to learn how to balance and walk elegantly again after so many years in flatties, as she called them.
Second, she started to imagine his hands on her face, or on her shoulders, or touching her breasts, or pressing on her stomach, or holding her waist, or searching between her thighs. These were very unfamiliar thoughts for Josie and she was disturbed at the same time as excited. For the first time in many years, she began to want physical contact with a man. Well; with David Lambert, anyway. If you told her she was lusting for him, she would have denied it, but deep down she knew it was true. After all, he must have been 20 years younger than she was. How could he possibly think of her in any sexual context?
And then it happened on a Friday morning: David came to the desk when no one else was there and spoke to her.
"Josie; would you meet me this weekend, please? We could have a drink and talk about things that interest you. I'd like to see you out of the office, if you'd like to."
Taken aback, and lost for words for a moment, she stumbled over a reply, "Yes – er – yes. That would be nice. Yes. When do you think?"
He didn't stumble at all because he obviously had it all planned out, "Let's say tomorrow evening. Is 7 o'clock good for you? I'll come round to your place if that's OK. Yes?"
She agreed and he backed away from the desk with a big grin; then he walked away but gave her a look back as he entered the lift; and smiled and gave her a wave. Before she could wave back, he disappeared behind the sliding doors.