As the warm spray of the shower soothed her aching body, Ellen Miller's hands began lathering up her chubby frame. It was amazing how much difference a day could make, mused the woman who was just weeks away from celebrating a half century on earth.
Yesterday, and nearly every day before that, the shower hadn't felt like this. Then, her body felt old to Ellen, old and tired and unattractive. That was yesterday, and while Ellen had still cringed when she had passed the mirror on the way to the shower that morning, the sight of those extra 60 or so pounds on her 5'4" frame making her wish she went to the gym more, the sight of those fresh marks on her body sending tingles down her spine as she recalled how they were caused.
Those marks - the raw skin on parts of her rump and knees, the scratches on her back and that bruise on her collarbone that Ellen thought may have been caused by a bite - weren't there yesterday. They had been caused by, and Ellen chuckled as the words crossed her mind, her lover.
Her lover. Ellen had never had one of those before. Her husband had been the only one to have ever touched her in the last 26 years, and only a couple of guys had even been with her prior to their relationship, but now there was another. She had a lover.
The thought of her, a prim and proper substitute teacher during the week and a Sunday School teacher on the Sabbath, being an adulteress was absurd to Ellen because she wasn't that kind of woman. Wasn't, but now was. She had cheated on her husband.
It was with his approval, Ellen reasoned as she grabbed the razor from the soap holder and ran the blade along the insides of her plump calves. It was Ralph who had told her that she could, as he had so crudely said it, "Fuck anybody you want - anybody that will have you that is."
That was after Ellen had discovered that her beloved husband had been doing just that himself, and for quite a few years. Fucking anybody he wanted, and when she confronted him about it he not only didn't deny it, he seemed to revel in it coming out in the open.
She was fat. She was ugly. She was boring, Ralph had told her, and while Ellen was tempted to tell her husband that the same words could be applied to him, she bit her tongue, but when he offered to move out, she was the one that said no.
Stick around for the sake of Peter, Ellen said - practically begged - that day a few years ago. Ellen had been brought up in a broken home, and she didn't want their son to endure that as well, so even though it was a sham, they stayed together for the boy's sake.
Ralph kept fucking other women and came home occasionally to play father, although Ellen sensed that son Peter was aware of what was going on. As for Ellen, she carried on as best she could, but never made any effort to find anyone to take care of the needs that still burned inside of her.
Oh, Ellen had flirted with the UPS delivery man a couple of times, but in retrospect the young fellow had probably thought she was kidding, or more accurately, that she was a joke. What would a cute young guy want with a dumpy old broad that even her equally dumpy old husband had lost interest in?
But that was before yesterday, Ellen thought as she lifted her arms and shaved her armpits, something she rarely bothered with recently for the same reason that she rarely vacuumed under the couch. Who looks? But that was before yesterday.
Her lover had looked, and while the sight of her unkempt underarms hadn't deterred him in the least, Ellen wanted to make sure she was at her best for him in case he came back again today, so the lush furry hollows became buttery smooth under the glide of the razor. There was no guarantee he would come back of course, but he had suggested he would, and that was enough to make her look forward to a tomorrow for the first time in a long time.
Out of the shower, Ellen dried herself, and as the soft cotton towel ran over her nipples the plump pegs swelled, just like they had under his touch the day before. His touch, Ellen mused with a smile. It was more like a mauling, the way he had attacked her breasts, clawing and kneading and sucking like a madman, and while the affection was crude and animal-like, Ellen had not only endured it but reveled in it.
Now dry, Ellen left the bathroom and headed into her bedroom. "Their" bedroom, Ellen reminded herself, as if the faint smell of Ralph's cigar wasn't enough of a reminder. The bed was unmade, and Ellen wasn't going to make it either, because hopefully it would get used again. Used like it hadn't been in well over two years - until yesterday.
Ellen took the new underclothes out of the bag and held them up, shaking her head at the absurdity of her - Ellen Miller - buying such suggestive garments at her age. She didn't even think that they made things like this in these sizes, she thought as she held up the lacy, deep purple under-wire bra she had run out and bought last night.
Ellen wanted to look good for him, so after he suggested that a body like hers deserved better that the drab and ill-fitting undergarments he had found underneath her clothes, she ran out to that naughty foundations store at the mall.
Ellen took off the $75 price tag from the back but left the size tag on so when he took the harness off of her later, he could see the size bra she had been fitted for. He had been very interested in that for some reason, and it had been so long since she had bought a bra that the size tag on the bra he took off her was too worn for him to be able to read, and Ellen didn't even remember what size bra she wore either.
Ellen didn't remember what size she bought last, but she must have grown since then because she knew she hadn't been a 40 DD. When the young girl measured her and told her that was her size, Ellen thought the kid was crazy but she was so embarrassed at being topless in front of some svelte salesgirl who didn't even look like she needed a bra that she simply nodded and bought what the girl picked out for her, along with the matching purple panties.
"Perfect," Ellen sighed to herself after she hooked the bra up and felt her breasts filling the cups completely, and not only did the brassiere feel good, she had to admit that it looked good too. A hell of a lot better than the worn-out harnesses she had a drawer full of, even if this contraption did make her look even bustier, something she used to be embarrassed about as it was.
Her lover liked her breasts. Loved them. To him they weren't the udders of a sad old cow but as objects to be admired, appreciated and even mauled. How long had it been since a guy acted like that toward her? Her memory wasn't that good.
Sucking in her stomach, Ellen nodded at her reflection and put on the matching purple nightie that she had bought to go along with her undergarments. The $200 seemed like a lot to someone who rarely spent on herself, but since their money had apparently been used for plenty of drinks, dinners and who knows what else for Ralph's girlfriends over the last few years, Ellen felt entitled.
This was it, Ellen declared as she left the bedroom and headed out to the kitchen to have another cup of coffee and wait for her lover to arrive. It had been after 11 when he had showed up yesterday and it was 9:30 now. Would he be anxious - wanting her just as bad as he had yesterday - or would he make her wait?
Ellen hoped he would be early because despite the way her body had felt after he had ravaged her for over three hours straight, that was yesterday and now she wanted more. Wanted him, and it was funny that before yesterday Ellen hadn't given much thought to Paul Shea, her lover.
After all, what 49 year old woman in her right mind would think of a friend of her son as a potential lover? Ellen hadn't even though of him as an adult, although he was 18, the same age as her son. Paul still looked like a kid though, the unkempt hair, the big ears and the goofy big-toothed grin, and right up until "IT" happened that was the way Ellen had continued to look at Paul.
Now, as Ellen sipped her coffee and looked out the kitchen window towards her back yard, she waited and hoped that Paul would show up soon. Ellen hoped that yesterday hadn't been some sort of delusion ever though from the soreness in long neglected places she knew that it had been very real.
More realistically, Ellen hoped that yesterday hadn't just been a case of a bored kid looking for something to do on a rainy day and had come by in hopes that he would find his friend's mother bored and lonely and desperate, although the words he had said seemed sincere. He said he had wanted her all of his life and had never had the guts to act on it before, and as Ellen stared out the window she thought back to less than 24 hours ago when it all began.
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The day before...
The knock on the back door had startled Ellen, causing her to drop the coffee cup she had been rinsing in the sink, and she was relived when it didn't break. The mug, with the worn images of lighthouses on Cape Cod, was a souvenir of happier days, and since all of her happier days were well in the past, she treasured the cup.
"Paul," Ellen had said to the kid who had knocked on her back door. "Peter - he's at work. He got a job for the summer."
"I know," the kid had said. "I work at Mickey D's too, but I've got a few days off."
