“That’s my husband,” Debbie said pointing tohim. “This is my friend,” she said pointing to me. “I’mgoing to ...hange into something comfortable, beers is inthe fridge,” she added pointing to the kitchen.I walked into the kitchen, got a beer and walked to thecouch. I sat down and waited. This guy never even looksat me. Wonder what she sees in him I think to myself.Debbie cane out of the bedroom in a pair of short,purple satin gym shorts, a midriff. The house was empty when I let myself in and my son is still not back from his night out. He is eighteen and there is just the two of us living here now.I go up stairs desperate for my bed and pull my dress up over my head, suddenly catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Standing there in black hold-up stockings, a black lacy bra holding my 36dd tits in and knickers having to contend with my motherly size 12 tummy.Not bad for nearly forty and I give myself a quick touch up, squeezing my. More

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