She just pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex after another grueling and agenizing twelve hour day at the hospital. As she exited her vehicle: "Dear God I'm tired." She thought: "I can actually smell my own feet! At least I hope that's my feet." She giggled to herself. Those feet were tired and sore and she could tell her ankles and calves were swollen.
As she looked up at the front door of her apartment: "Thirty more paces and three concrete steps through that door and I am done for the day." She told herself, but she couldn't be happy because she knew that 'he' would be in there.
Though it was well after midnight, she made no attempt to be quiet. She intentionally allowed her keys to hit against the door and jingle loudly as she unlocked it to let herself in her tiny one bed room apartment: "Over the years, this is what I have reduced myself to?" She thought remembering better days: "Bastard!" She literally whispered out loud as she looked in at the filthy kitchenette piled high with his dirty dishes, takeout containers and empty beer bottles.
She could smell him as she listened to that constant snoring coming from the other room. The stale smell in the air from an open mouthed, cigarette smoking. beer breathed, lazy ass sleeper and it was a smell she'd grown to regard as foul and disgusting as him.
She considered for a moment not even showering: "It would serve him right if I would just pile into bed next to him after twelve hours of sick people puke and bedpans." She reasoned in her mind, but then again she knew she needed to get her tired overweight body out of her nasty scrubs, peel off those soiled and sweaty undergarments and get beneath the hot water of her shower.
She fumbled around in the dark looking for her clean robe. Hell, she could have cared less if she woke him for his sleep's sake, but right now she didn't want to hear his voice. He disgusted her so: "The Lazy bastard hasn't worked a day since I married him." She fumed as her hands located the soft linen in her unorganized top drawer.
"Thank God he at least left me one clean towel." She thought as she stepped in the bathroom , stripping out of her well worn work clothes and starting the water: "Hot ... it's got to be hot!" She actually said aloud as she adjusted the valve.
When she glanced in the mirror she was surprised over what she saw. She had seen herself often, but in the nursing field, or any other line of work for that matter, one always tends to picture themselves differently, more vibrant and a bit more attractive and she didn't expect to appear so haggard looking to herself, so worn and ridden hard.
As she continued to look on her sixty seven year old nudity, she realized that she had totally let herself go: "Way too overweight!" She reasoned as she looked in the mirror at her sagging breasts, the loose folds of skin and the irritable itching rose colored red creases her bra strap and elastic panty waistband had left deep in her pale flesh.
"A life of wrong decisions, poor choices and bad luck." She told herself: "Hell, my kids even hate me." She grieved as she stepped in past the shower curtain to finally get under the hot water.
While grabbing the half empty bottle of shower gel off the gummed up soap dish, she squeezed it in her hand and gently rubbed her palms together thinking back on her day.
Those slick soapy hands started feeling far too good against her own flesh as she washed under her arms and over her breasts, then down across her plump tummy. The firm, smooth softness of her untrimmed and hairy pubic mound felt warm and sensuous in her cupped right hand as her left one lifted the weight of her ample left titt sliding forward in search of it's now slightly erect and aching nipple.
As she firmly fondled and tweaked herself there, she thought of the young intern who had started at her work that day. Remembering the cut of his slacks and how well they fit him at the crotch, her middle and index fingers located the center of her vulva. She started parting herself there in search of her inner lips when her clitoris plumped and memories of her high school sweetheart Pete, the first love of her life, came crashing into her lustful thoughts about that intern and immediately she backed off ... And just finished her bathing.
He was born beneath her, her mother had told her and he would never amount to a thing: "And now he is a successful Businessman living in an Italian paradise while she is stuck in the cold American Midwest with the worthless bastard in the other room." She grieved.
She just patted herself partially dry and pushed her short wet hair back and while looking at her outline in the steamed up mirror she thought: "A glass of milk and maybe a news program before I have to climb into bed with that ass."
A few seconds later, she was sitting cross legged 'Indian Style' on the loveseat with the soft feel of her linen robe on her damp flesh. In the blue white glow of the television, she started trying to talk herself out of polishing off a sleeve of Oreos with her milk, though she very much wanted to.
As she laid back her head to wait out the commercial, scary but fond thoughts of her first crush slipped back in her head, ever so easy this time: "Damn it "Sue! I know I should have never let him out of my life! Why start thinking of him NOW!"" She cursed herself and then closed her eyes to think of something else, anything else, anyone else.
She woke in a warm breeze and the sunlight that filled the room through an open window. Sluggish, sleepy, tired and disoriented, she stood: "Good! ... Honey! You're finally up!" She heard coming from a semi familiar voice just outside of that room.
She immediately looked down and saw her robe was open, and then up into the face of a young man that looked like he could be the offspring of her high school sweetheart or the young Intern she'd first met last night: "But how can this be?" Her mind pondered. She tried to reason out this new and troubling situation, but it just didn't work.
"Come on." He coaxed: "Don't look so surprised. The bathroom is all yours ... Let's get going before the cafe fills up and becomes overcrowded.
Pulling her robe closed, she stepped on past him turning her head as she walked in order to maintain full eye contact with that man as he smiled so loving and reassuringly at her: "Wow!" She thought: "He smells so damn good! Where in the hell am I?" She tried to reason through all of this new confusion.
"Who is this gorgeous man and what am I doing here with him?" She kept thinking over and over as the bathroom door closed behind her. When she looked around, she saw she was in a master suit like one she had ever seen before. It looked so lavish, so lush, like something out of a movie or magazine.
When she noticed herself in the mirror, she almost passed out. There she stood, younger, thinner a more beautiful version of Susan than she ever remembered herself being. She opened and removed her robe letting it literally drop behind her from the very sight of the woman looking back at her from the glass. A young woman well groomed, firm, obviously waxed, trimmed and tweezed, and a far cry from the hairy un-kept natural bushed and portly BBW she had always jokingly prided herself on being.
