A Current Affair

NOTE TO READERS: I am an African-American woman in my early-50s and mother of three. This story began over a year and a half ago by chance. I have many emotions about posting this since the story involves my marital issues, and I am also displaying my body to the world. Why would I do these things? You'll have to read to find out. Maybe this account will also help others in a similar marital situation, but don't go about it like I did.

Please be kind in the comments. I am a full figured mature woman, so if you don't care to see me nude enjoy other stories here, but for those who continue to read on, I hope this is worth your time. All photos were either taken by myself or my friend Tamara over the years. Due to where some events took place, I have substituted related photos of me that go along with the story as it progresses.

I have changed the names of the people who are described in this story to protect their identities and businesses except my own.

-- Katy

* * * * *

I had not had any sex with my husband for the last seventeen years my twenty-seven year marriage. I had (and still have) a very high libido, but my husband was not interested in me sexually after our third child. Since my mid-20's, I only had sex a few times per year before the current drought.

Shawn, my husband, constantly said bad things about my physical appearance that I didn't like because didn't accept that kids change a woman's body. Gravity also took its toll on my boobs and elsewhere, and I eventually developed self-esteem issues due to his negative comments over the years. Shawn wanted me to dress as conservatively as possible in public so no one would see my sagging boobs and belly. Eventually, I dressed the way he wanted since I wore what I felt about myself. Shawn was quite happy because he said it spared me the embarrassment of others seeing my figure.

I wasn't always self-conscious about my body and withdrawn. Before I was married I was an extrovert with self-confidence. I pursued the men I was allowed to date and had intercourse frequently, sometimes with multiple men the same day. I avoided the prostitution route some of my friends fell into, but I picked up some radical, at the time, habits like shaving my pussy bare, an idea I got from a magazine I read once that dedicated itself to shaving it all off. It was very unusual for women in my area at that time. I loved it and the men seemed to like it after the initial view or feel.

It was easy to pick men up with my aggressiveness, sexy attire and large boobs. I didn't mind giving men peeks at my body, either. I would wear short denim skirts and tight halter tops with no undergarments to attract men. I also liked rough sex along with dirty talk that sometimes went with it. I developed a clientele of sorts who liked my shaving routine and my fetishes. Eventually, my "professional" friends got upset at me since I was doing many of their guys for free. Sex was not work for me.

Today, I was a hollow shell of that woman, relegated to having sex with myself. My three close friends knew of my problems. They used that inside knowledge to try to break me out of my shell when I was out with them during our weekly get-togethers on Friday evenings. I knew they tried to lift me up emotionally, but I had been verbally abused and humiliated for so long that the woman Shawn told me I was became my way of life.

Over the years, my friends got me to wear my old backless sun dresses on our nights out. They were tighter now than when I bought them when I was dating Shawn and I wore one that night. I have very large boobies so these outfits not only showed my cleavage, but also highlighted the fact that I had no bra on. Since my dresses refused to get bigger and my body had grown in different directions, there was a good amount of exposed boob above the waist. It was hard to find anything that covered my chest back when I had first bought them, but I didn't care and neither did my future husband.

That changed after the kids, and Shawn was very upset when he saw me wear these dresses inside or outside of our house. I stood up to him for a time, but eventually his degrading comments made me stop trying to wear them. He begged me repeatedly to throw them out over the years, but I kept them because they were one of the few reminders of the better times between us. To get around him, my friends told me to pack a dress in my purse the day of, and change into it after work. To change back before I went home? My BFF Tamara offered her large SUV with blacked-out windows which was much easier to change in than my car and a lot cleaner than the bathrooms. She scouted for people getting close to her car while she sat next to me. It was humiliating to change in public even if they couldn't see me.

Humiliating? Yes. Thanks to my husband, I was embarrassed to be seen in a dress not to mention being seen naked. The dresses were too revealing with the body I had, but I wanted to appease my friends due to their constant peer pressure.

My friends and I were in a club for our weekly gossip session that covered just about every topic imaginable. My friends tried many suggestions to help my sexlife, but I refused most of them. I mean, what man wanted to see more of me than what I had on? My husband assured me that no man would even pay to see me naked. Porsche once suggested adult toys months ago. They bought a dildo for me, but when my husband found it in a drawer, he threw it out.

Anything was possible as far as "helpful suggestions" went to put a man's dick inside me. Tamara suggested a male escort, and that the group would chip in to pay for him, if needed. There was always a lot of this type of loving advice each week.

Many months later, they talked me into going commando for most of every month. Apparently, I missed the email that it was common these days to do so, even at our age (at least in this circle.) All my friends said they had been without panties for a long time. I knew Tamara didn't wear panties and I liked going commando, too. I used to go without them when I had my desirable body of yesteryear but now it was very bold and daring. . . for me. It wasn't a problem when I went to work in my safer outfits, but it was too much when in these dresses. Tamara had no issues about checking, either. However, the dresses nor the lack of panties equated to a better sex life at home.

On that particular night, we fell upon the topic of hair removal. Porsche needed electrolysis to tidy up her eyebrows and remove unwanted hairs on her face. She mentioned she did other areas in the past, but didn't go into detail even after the group interrogated her about it.

Tamara, the most radical of our group, said she had her vajayjay worked on to please her man. When the group badgered her further, she said she had everything removed around her pussy but for a small landing strip, and it made for hotter sex with her husband. It also saved her a lot of time keeping it trimmed. I knew she already had that hair style, but more on that later.

Monik said she tried electrolysis for about an hour and couldn't take the pain. When the group laughed and said she blew her man's money on another frivolous, expensive, cosmetic procedure, she stopped us with her hand and said, "Not this time, bitches, it was free 'cause I used a coupon."

We all broke out in laughter.

As always, they turned their attention to me. Thanks to Tamara's loose tongue, they knew that I had an untrimmed, furry pubic area which was not a surprise to Monik or Porsche. That set me up to be their little guinea pig for electrolysis. I told them I liked it full and grown out, and it was the way my husband wanted it, too. In reality, Shawn insisted on it because it hid my ugly post-kids vagina. After being told it was unsightly for so long, I also believed it so what I told my friends was the truth. Tamara knew I used to shave it bare, so she definitely wasn't buying it.

By the end of the discussion, my friends wanted me to try electrolysis everywhere to see how I liked it. I promised I would try it just to get them off my back. Tamara added that she had a lot of dirt on me that she was holding back just in case I tried to weasel out of it. It was lighthearted, but I knew Tamara too well.

Later in the evening, when Porsche was off to the restroom and Monik was at the bar to get more drinks, I asked Tamara more about electrolysis. I was curious about what she experienced especially when they did her private parts, but mainly to put my mind at ease.

"Weren't you nervous about being naked in from of them?" I asked.

"I've been seen by three women and they've all seen everything before. There is nothing to be afraid of, sis'. Be adventurous. You might like it. Just think of them like doctors except they won't get on your case about eating right. They've never said anything negative to me. It made my sexlife a lot better and maybe it will help yours, too," she said.

"I am not attractive anymore. That is why I have a dead bedroom. Less hair won't change that. If I was thinner and prettier, then I would maybe get Shawn to make love to me. You know, I shouldn't even be wearing this dress out in public. Guys stare at me."

"Your husband has you brainwashed into believing that, but Monik, Porsche and I know better. Them guys ain't starin' at you 'cause your hideous," Tamara said.

"I know you all are trying to help cheer me up, but there's no point in this electrolysis stuff."

"The group has spoken, dear, so it shall be done," she laughed. "We will want a full report next week so don't cop out on us. Don't take it so seriously. Just do something for yourself. I'll know if you are lying, too." She winked at me.

Trust me, she would.

As I drove back home after the party, I thought about Tamara. We were childhood friends and double dated throughout high school and after. Tamara was someone who I could always lean on. We were very close. Almost everyone would say too close.

During my younger, sexually driven years Tamara and I had a number of foursomes together that started our senior year of high school. We felt safer that way, especially in our neighborhood. We continued the tradition in college and joined a black sorority together. We lived for the parties to break up the monotony of schoolwork. After the festivities, we saw each other nude quite a lot and were in bed together naked a number of times. On school breaks, I was able to meet back up with my boyfriends and satisfy my desires on the home front.

Tamara was always rail thin with not an ounce of fat on her. Even today, she was very petite, but with a toned, athletic body even after having children. She was as tall as me so her landing strip really complimented her look. I could see why she did it.

I've always thought my BFF was bi sexual. Even though I suspected she was into women, we didn't try anything with each other. I actually enjoyed the attention she gave me, and that attention was very interesting. Maybe it was because Shawn never gave me any.

I was able to graduate from college with honors in accounting and eventually became a CPA while Tamara reached her dream of become a professional photographer. She had a scholarship for track and field, so she was always into sports and fitness. Her main income came from photographing athletes and fitness models so she often had her expensive cameras with her on business trips, and I would often tag along.

I quickly found out she continued to ignore personal boundaries. It was as if we never left high school or college. She would walk in and out of the bathroom while we're both naked getting ready, and not think twice about it. It wasn't a big deal to see one another nude because if our past conquests, but over time my self-esteem issues weighed on me. She continued to look as fabulous as always, but I was overweight and my boobs were awful to look at. She had trimmed pubic hair on her pussy that her husband adored while I grew out my bush to hide my vagina for Shawn. No wonder she had a great sex life, while I had none.

She occassionally made some off hand remarks about me joining a threesome with her and her husband as if joking, but I thought she was actually serious. Why would her husband want to have sex with me? I was no where near as beautiful as she was.

The combination of Tamara as a photographer and us being more than close friends made for some interesting times.

On her business getaways, she loved to take photos of me in various states of undress. Initially, I think she wanted me to feel attractive, as if I was some sort of model. When I started to wear the dresses outside of the house without Shawn's permission, she would ask me to show more leg or expose more my cleavage. After nights of too many cocktails, these sessions sometimes became partial nude shoots. From then on, she felt she could do it whenever we were together alone (hence the source of some of my photos.) She said it was for practice professionally, but I knew better.

This is one she took of me pre-electrolysis at home.

After I arrived home and lay in bed after my night out, I started to look into electrolysis. I was about try another wild thing I was not accustomed to doing. Going commando sparked something inside me. Maybe my friends were right about electrolysis, as well. I craved the intimacy of sex where I was touched and wanted, but that was only for attractive women like my friends. It seemed like a distant fantasy now.

My friends said they had to go with electrolysis instead of laser hair removal because of our dark skin and hair. I got on my phone and looked up electrologists near to where I lived. I was surprised at how many places there were. All women owned like Tamara said, and yes, there were plenty of on-line coupons for up to two hour sessions and free consultations at most places.

A lot of businesses did not post their rates but generally a fifteen minute session was $30-$50 worth of value. The next business day, I called places near to where I worked. At the beginning, no one accepted any new clients. I never thought electrolysis was so popular!

I finally found a place in a town adjacent to the city I worked in. It was not very far, and I could keep it private without my husband finding out. When I called, a woman named Tiffany answered. I told her I had coupons and wanted to give it a shot. She needed to know what areas I wanted hair removed from, since that would take more time to discuss.

I scheduled an appointment for Thursday at 3pm. She said it did not matter what coupon I used since there was no one booked for the rest of that day. She asked for my name and I only gave her my first name. I was not about to give her my last name. . . ever!

Session #1

My time at the office went by quickly because I dwelled on the upcoming appointment. I wanted to get there on time so I left early. It would not do to show up late on my first visit. Totally Virgo, right? The traffic was not bad, and I found the place easily using my car's GPS. The parking lot was big and currently sparse with cars. I parked up in front of the business. If this was the right place, it would have to be part of a beauty salon under a different name. It sat at the end of an outdoor mall. There was a large open field to my left where a currently dry, wide, drainage channel you see in California ran through the city.

I was about to call Tiffany and ask where her place was located, but then I saw a small sign hanging on the door that displayed the name of the place I searched for along with the words "By appointment only. Entrance located around the left." written below it.

The salon was part of row of businesses that you would have a hard time distinguishing one from another because of the ten foot tall wall of glass that ran along the store fronts and extended from the sidewalk to just below the eaves where the signs above were displayed. The salon windows in front were particularly reflective.

I sat in my car and stared at the reflection of myself. What was that lady who stared back at me thinking? I got out of my car and headed around the side of the salon. There was a narrow service road that ran along the building toward the back of the stores, but further down the road there appeared to be something going on. There were women in dresses lined up near the corner with a few men checking them out, and a few of them looked at me as I turned the corner. It was a little nerve racking and the entrance to the electrolysis shop was nowhere to be seen. I definitely wasn't walking down to the back of the building if that was where it was, so I turned around and headed through the front door instead.

Just inside, there was a small waiting room to my right with plastic chairs for seating. Behind a glass wall next to them was the hair salon, and there were three hair stylists working on their clients. I approached the receptionist in front of me who stood behind a counter. I saw her name tag and realized she was the one who took my call yesterday.

"Hi. I'm Katy."

"Nice to meet you. Do you have an appointment?" Tiffany asked.

"Yes. I called you earlier in the week about an electrolysis appointment today."

"The entrance is over on the outside to my right."

"I wasn't sure so I came here to make certain. I didn't see a door. It isn't around back is it? It looked like something was going on back there."

"Oh yeah, sorry about that. Don't worry about the women or the clients down there. They are with the massage parlor inside here, but their main entrance in the back. You are going to a door on that side but it's recessed from the outer wall. It is a converted space the owners wanted to rent out. There is a way to get to it from in here, but it isn't meant for customer traffic."

I thanked her and walked outside and rounded the corner. I thought it strange that the massage parlor wasn't indicated anywhere in front of their business. This time I noticed that the glass continued around the corner of the salon up to where the shop entrance was some thirty feet down the side. I could see my reflection in the windows as I walked toward it. As I got closer, I could see that the women down the road were selling more than massages judging by their outfits. I turned and walked up a narrow, short corridor to the solid, metal door with a small light overhead. I opened it and entered into a fairly large room on my right. It faced out toward the drainage canal to the southwest. The whole wall that faced the street was just framed glass that I just passed outside, and I was surprised how much you could see out from the inside. It was also unfortunate, since there were no curtains along the entire thirty foot span. The room had enough space to fit a nice chair, desk and a table with a sheet of paper that covered it, along with a stool with wheels stored underneath. All of them rested on a dark brown vinyl floor.

Next to the table was the electrologist's machine on a cart with wheels and there were wires attached to it. A cord was connected to several floor petals and another was attached to a metal cylinder. The remaining wire went to a probe-like device. There was shelving with sterilization equipment and supplies and and a large, adjustable exam light overhead.

At the head of table opposite the front, was a wall covered with many photos of youth baseball, soccer and flag football teams. From six feet away, they all looked like local county youth teams from around the area and were maybe sponsored by this place. I appreciated that the woman who owned this did that for the area children, being a former team mom and coach myself.