For those of you who don't know me, my name is Hilda. I live in Canada with my husband Reynard. We are both of Scandinavian decent and have been married for over 30 years. Though I had always been told how pretty I was, the confidence I once had in my body had begun to wane since I had gained the extra weight that comes with age. Other than a pretty face and nice legs, I always thought my best assets were my extra full breasts. However, over the years, their heavy weight had taken its toll and I was hard pressed to find a brassiere that lifted and supported them properly.
Nevertheless, when Reynard's young nephew came to visit on the way to his new job in Banff, I discovered that he found me sexually attractive, even though I was nearly twice his age. Up to this time, sex with my husband had been nearly non-existent, and I had turned to masturbation to fulfill my desires. When Reynard suggested I seduce his nephew while he watched in secret, I was only too willing to comply with my husband's wishes.
It turns out that this was the turning point in our sex life, and it has been very good ever since. Reynard enjoys sharing me with other young men we find in the market, or at the lake. Obviously, I enjoy the young hard bodies as they ravage me. I think they respect the experience of an older woman, and many have complimented me on my full endowment as well as the thickness and mass of my full tangled pubic bush.
One crisp Fall morning at breakfast Reynard was reading the paper and he showed me an advertisement for a new kind of brassiere, something called a Wonder Bra. The department store where it was sold was offering personal fittings by a manufacturerβs representative, who guaranteed a perfect fit for everyone. Since I had complained for so long that I couldn't find a comfortable bra, Reynard insisted that I go and be fitted by a professional.
That afternoon, bundled up in a wool skirt with matching jacket and ear muffs, I set off for the department store. Once inside, I made my way back to the women's section and was met by a matronly mannered woman who was probably 10 years my senior. She was professionally dressed in a dark skirt and white silk blouse that clung voluptuously to her full breasts. Her salt and pepper hair was tied back in a bun, secured by a black velvet bow.
I was impressed with her crisp figure and overall professional appearance. "Hi," she said smiling, sticking out her hand. "My name is Samantha, but my friends call me Sam." I took her hand. Her skin was smooth and warm, and her long painted nails were beautifully manicured. I was immediately put at ease by her friendly disposition and introduced myself.
"Nice to meet you Hilda," she replied as she held my hand. "What can I do for you?"
"My husband saw the advertisement in the paper about the Wonder Bra, and he convinced me to come down for a professional fitting," I replied as she continued to grasp my hand in both of hers. "Are you wearing a Wonder Bra," I asked, impressed with her sexy figure.
"Of course," she replied with a bright smile. "I wouldn't be in this business if I didn't believe in the product. Why don't we go in the back and get started so you can see and personally experience the feeling the proper bra will make in your own figure?" she said as she turned toward the fitting rooms.
I followed her into one of several unoccupied dressing rooms in the back of the store. There were full-length mirrors on every wall. As she closed the door to the dressing room she turned and asked me what was my main concern with my present bra. I replied that I could not find a bra that gave me comfortable support of my heavy breasts.
"Lets take off your jacket and let me see what you are talking about," she replied as she helped me remove my coat. She hung it on a peg on the wall and turned to look at me as I stood there in my calf length wool skirt and thick turtle-neck sweater. "I can tell from your silhouette that your breasts seem to hang rather low," she said. "I have the same problem, and you can see what the correct bra does for me," she said as she placed her hands on her narrow waist and turned so as to present her sexy figure to my gaze. "With the proper fitting Wonder Bra we will be able to lift your breasts and allow their fullness to be displayed in complete comfort," she said. "You obviously have no problem with ample cleavage, so we will concentrate on the symmetrical placement of your breasts under different types of blouses and sweaters."
As she looked me up and down I felt myself beginning to blush slightly. Her gaze seemed so penetrating, even though I was fully clothed. "You have a very good figure as far as I can tell," she finally stated." Lets start by taking off your booties then I want you to lift up your skirt for a moment and let me see the shape of your legs."
I was momentarily set back at her request, since I had not expected this type of request would be part of a professional bra fitting. She must have sensed my hesitancy because she just smiled and gently explained that the symmetry of all my body parts was part of the overall fitting process. She was so professional I didn't think twice as I slipped off my shoes and began to lift my skirt. I was wearing thigh length wool stockings since there had been a chilling north wind blowing when I left the house.
As I raised my skirt above my knees Sam knelt on my right side and said she would help me slip my stockings off. Goose bumps began to form on my legs as I felt her hands slide up my leg until she reached half way up my right thigh and grasp my wool hose. "Spread your legs and lift your leg," she asked as she slowing began rolling my hose downward, her finger tips forced to caress my naked flesh as she worked them off my upper thighs then down my calf.
She lifted my right foot and pulled the socking completely off. I turned to my right so as to allow her access to my left leg. As she ran her hands up under my skirt and along the contours of my left thigh, feeling for the top of my stocking, I could feel a wetness begin to form in my cotton panties. Her hands felt very warm and soft as she slowly began to remove my other stocking. My legs became weak as I shivered slightly so I placed my left hand on her shoulder to steady myself.
"There must be a draft in here," she said as she continued to work my stocking down my leg. "I felt you shiver and your legs are covered with goose bumps."
If she only knew the exquisite feelings she was sending through my body. I never thought I would react this way to the touch of another woman, but my pussy was becoming soaked in response to her innocent touch. Finally she lifted my left foot and removed my stocking. She arose to her feet and told me to go ahead and lift my skirt so she could evaluate my upper legs.
I pulled the heavy wool material up to just above my knees, but could go no further. "You have lovely ankles and calves," she said. "But I need to see your upper legs as well to properly assess your figure."
It became obvious that I would not be able to lift my skirt much higher because of the amount of material that was bunching up. "Why don't you take your skirt off since it is so long, and that will make it easier for me to take the proper measurements. Here, let me help you," she said as she slip behind me and began to unzip my skirt. She gave the material a gentle tug at my hips and the skirt fell to the floor. I stepped out of my skirt and was now standing in my panties in front of a woman who I had met only 10 minutes prior. I shivered again, whether from a draft or the excitement of exposing my body to this prim and proper professional brassiere fitter.
I instinctively held my hands in front of my pubic mound, as a sort of covering. I was intimately aware that, unlike the younger generation of women, my untrimmed pubic growth extended slightly down my inner thighs, outside the confines of my panties and would be clearly visible to Samantha. Sam knelt behind me as she began to take a measurement of my hips with a tape measure she had been carrying around her neck. As he reached around my body with the tape, I felt her face brush against my buttocks. She then leaned back and pulled the tape up against my ass cheeks, her hands resting firming against my flesh, separated only by my thin cotton panties.