Almudena was filling the automatic dryer that Wednesday, as was her weekly laundry day routine for the past 19 years. She was a beautiful 38 year old brunette, with big brown eyes and well defined facial shapes, a well-preserved figure thanks to her mother's good genetics and daily exercise routine, coupled with the healthy eating regimen she implemented for herself and her family, which was reflected in both Robert her husband and Tina her only daughter.
The house boasted a pristine condition since Almudena had a temperamental and obsessive behavior for order and cleanliness, which were part of her modest personality. For she was very careful about manners and respect. Both Robert and Tina had to leave their shoes at the entrance so as not to dirty the house.
Tina and Almudena enjoyed walking around the house barefoot, as they found it extremely relaxing for their feet to have that freedom.
Early that morning, she said goodbye to Tina who was leaving on a school trip and would be back until Monday, Robert would call at noon to remind her of their unavoidable Wednesday night meeting, so he wouldn't be home until very late, so she didn't have to wait up for him.
Almudena was already accustomed to the yoke of the predictable Wednesday routine, Robert would religiously attend their weekly meeting at the gentlemen's club with his friend Fred, which ended late into the night, and she learned to tolerate the way the emotionless marital monotony was at ease in her tedium of loving and living.
On the weekend she would put on a nice dress and Robert would take her to dinner in the city and with any luck, there would be a brief, mechanized lovemaking session on the way back, corresponding to the awkward, unwritten protocol of a monotonous married life.
Almudena momentarily wandered in her mind as she extended the ironing board and laid out one of her husband's shirts, dreaming of the youthful passion of her temperamental start with Robert in that modest apartment when the night was insufficient for them to be together and they both returned to work the next morning, enveloped by the weakness and exhilaration of having reached together the erogenous heights that no erotic novel for lonely women could ever describe.
The doorbell rang and Almudena put aside the iron to place that white shirt on a hook to go to the door. She was glad to see that it was her friend Sandy, the only person who could really understand that tedious suburban drama because she was also one of its protagonists.
The two spent entire afternoons talking about raising their daughters and how to prolong the electricity under the sheets with their husbands on the weekend, when they returned from those dinners in the city.
-Laundry Wednesday again?" said Sandy with a smirk.
Almudena shrugged and nodded resignedly as she invited her in.
Sandy lived next door and was about 40 years old, similar in height to Almudena, had electrifying honey-colored eyes, a mischievous smile with the vivacity of a naughty girl, long wavy blonde hair that was flaunted combed according to the canons of correctness of elegant suburban ladies, full lips that generously emanated phrases pregnant with kindness, typical of the sweet and gentle charisma of Sandy, who always sought to be pleasant to distract the attention generated by the roundness of her hips, which widened slightly after giving birth to her twin daughters; Flora and Maura who left for the same end of school trip with Almudena and Robert's daughter Tina.
-Don't tell me anything Almudena, today is Wednesday of the inescapable gentlemen's club where Robert and Fred will be wasting their time all night and impregnating their clothes with the smell of tobacco. I'm tired of washing shirts smelling of Cuban tobacco.
Almudena: We shouldn't complain, they spend the whole week working and thanks to that, we don't lack anything.
Sandy: You are partly right, but you know well that we are prey to the routine that brought our childhood illusions; to have a nice house with white wooden fences, a nice garden, a formal husband and splendid provider, beautiful and healthy daughters, an affordable mortgage about to be concluded. As well as the ample comfort of those tight-fitting granny panties.
Almudena was blushing the instant Sandy, with just two deft movements circled her hips, unbuttoned the skirt and with her hands brought it all the way to the floor.
"Sandy. What's the matter with you?"
Sandy was on her knees before her extending her that mischievous, playful look of a girl about to do mischief, she nimbly stood up holding Almudena's skirt and teasingly tossed it on the sofa. She then ran her hands over the belt of her cross-dress, which in a few seconds was flying through the air to fall on the skirt lying on the sofa.
"You have nothing to be ashamed of honey, look. We both wear the same model, now take off that blouse."
Sandy led Almudena towards a full-length mirror located in the corridor of the house, both women were standing looking at the image that the reflection of that large mirror showed them.
They were both wearing white full-cut panties and a matching underwire bra with lace trim on the cups, They were the comfortable and functional garments that an adult suburban woman would choose to wear under her clothes every day.
See, you and I are the same, and I assure you that if you put on my bra you will see that we are the same size, she took it off and held it out to her friend who shyly took it blushing, as she looked at the round bare breasts of her blonde neighbor, and they both tried on the garments verifying Sandy's words.
"We have exactly the same thing going on in life - take a good look at us!