Greetings to the New Brunette.

Greetings to the New Brunette


In April 2004 my husband announced that his 25 year old secretary was 6 months pregnant and he was leaving me and our two daughters to be with her. Apparently I’d become boring and had put on weight – no longer the slim nymphomaniac that he had married 21 years previously. To say that I was devastated would be somewhat of an understatement.

I thought that I’d been as good a mother and wife as I could be while also holding down a career as an accountant with a pretty large clothing company. I’d never refused sex and (even though I say so myself) was quite skilled at oral sex…at least he never complained. Obviously things had changed over the years; I had actually put on a little bit of extra weight – but so had he! Oddly enough sometimes I genuinely ‘wasn’t in the mood’ after a long hard day at work, driving for 40 minutes across town at rush-hour to make sure my family had a nice nutritious meal on the table by 7pm. MEN!

Somehow my daughters and I muddled through and in September 2005 Chloe joined her elder sister at University in London. Six weeks later my company merged with a large American consortium and I was made redundant with a very handsome settlement.

Without a care in the world I decided to spend some of my new found wealth on a three week holiday in the Caribbean with my youngest sister; where I subsequently had sex for the first time since my husband had left the matrimonial home. For some drunken reason it was with one of the hotel barmen who was as black as the Ace of Spades. It certainly hadn’t been planned as I had never even fantasised about having sex with a black man and in fairness I can remember very little about it because I was so drunk! I do remember being disappointed at the size of his Willy – smaller than my ex-husbands (boo-hoo) and it was all over very quickly. The upside was feeling sexually attractive and self-confident for the first time in two or three years.

On my return home there was a job offer waiting for me to become the Manager of a friends’ Advertising/Marketing Company called ‘The Icicle Works’. It was to start virtually as immediately as the current Manager was very pregnant and didn’t want to return to work.

It was a completely Alien world to me as I sat at my desk on the first Monday in my new office after spending 17 years in my last job.

“Hiya!” A very camp Asian boy greeted me. “I’m Nikki and I’m making coffee; would you like one?”

“Yes please.” I replied.

“How do you like it?” He asked as his eyes surveyed the pictures on my desk.

“Dark and strong please.”

“Just like the men in your life I presume?” He giggled and minced out of the room before I could reply.

A few minutes later he brought my drink to me and he offered to introduce me to the five girls that worked in the office.
They were an ‘interesting bunch’; all of them were in their early twenties and they had an assortment of dyed hair, exotic clothing and tattoos. Nikki was possibly the nearest to ‘normal’ and he was as camp as a row of tents! This was going to be an interesting job – if I could last to the end of the first week.

Make it I did and very enjoyable it was too. They were a great hard-working bunch of kids who all loved their jobs and proud of working for the ‘The Icicle Works’.

As we were having our afternoon coffee Nikki and Evangeline (one of the designers) regaled me with their elaborate plans for a hedonistic weekend. I just smiled; then Hannah the Liverpool Girl told us in graphic detail her own plans for wild sexual abandon with her new boyfriend who was on leave from the Army.

“What is the Delectable Melanie going to do with herself tonight?” Nikki giggled when he saw the amazed look on my face, “Sex and drugs and rock and roll too?”

“Takeaway curry and nice bottle of wine.” I thinly smiled and shrugged my shoulders. “Watching reality TV.”

“Oh…my…God…NO!” Nikki gasped as he theatrically threw his head into his hands. “I must save you from yourself! You simply MUST come out with us.”


“I don’t think so!” I laughed out loud and dramatically shook my head and hands in his direction. “Anyway I’m old enough to be your mother….what would your friends think?”

“They’d love you and you’d love them.” He grinned; “A few of the boys have a thing for Yummy-Mummy’s!”

“What?” I enquired; never having heard that expression before.

“Yummy-Mummy’s are older women that young guys are attracted to.” Evangeline butted in. “Or they call them Milf’s.”

Again I shook my head.

They all looked at each other and sniggered at my ignorance daring someone to explain the term to me.

Nikki was close to exploding with laughter and blurted out, “Mothers I’d like to……FUCK!”

“Oh!” I gulped.

Tears of joy were running down Jill’s cheeks and the other four were in hysterics at my embarrassment now.
“Oh sweetie,” my gay friend giggled, “there is just sssooooo much that I have to teach you!”

We eventually went back to finishing the days work and went our separate ways at 5 o’clock.

As expected I watched TV alone on all three nights; having a takeaway curry on Friday, pizza on Saturday and Chinese on Sunday with a nice bottle of wine to wash them down. I called my sister on Saturday night and both daughters on Sunday. Apart from that the only human contact I had was in the Supermarket doing my weekly shopping.

I spent the first couple of hours on Monday morning listening to the young people delight each other with tales of hedonism beyond my wildest imaginings! They had all been drunk at least once, each one of them had had sex with virtual strangers – Nikki and one of the girls (Emma) had both been with different people on both Friday and Saturday nights – Nikki alluding to having gone home with two boys on Saturday! There was also a casual conversation about Cocaine and Ecstasy which really did shock me.

I tried to remain oblivious to the chatter but it was impossible – they were so blasé about their behaviour and I was fascinated; not least because I was a little bit concerned that my daughters may be behaving in the same manner in London.

It was a similar tale for the next few Fridays and Mondays with Nikki and Emma going clubbing a couple of nights during the week too. It was pretty evident that Nikki was a very popular guy and was welcomed in every bar and club in Town because he usually led a large exotic group of free spending young people. They put a lot of pressure on me each week to join them but I resisted although it became increasingly difficult to come up with excuses.

After a few more weeks I started joining them for a drink after work on a Friday night gradually staying out until about 10 when they would go to a Club. I thoroughly enjoyed myself as I was almost immediately adopted into the ‘coolest gang in town’. I even had my hair cut, styled and coloured by one of my new best friends. Prompting Nikki to announce ‘Greetings to the new brunette’ when I entered the office the following day.

A week or two later he flounced into my office and announced that a big client that we had been working for was finally opening his new restaurant on that Friday night and we had invites to the VIP party; then afterwards onto an exclusive Club in the centre of town and he wouldn’t allow me to say ‘no’.

I was instructed to wear my very very best glamourous ‘going out dress’ and put on some ‘special’ underwear – just in case. He was incorrigible but he did make me laugh.

When I inspected my wardrobe I couldn’t find anything that fitted the bill (honest!). I felt particularly dowdy because I hadn’t been anywhere worth dressing up for in nearly two years. Then the penny dropped! I scampered into my daughters’ bedroom and raided their wardrobe. After following a rigid diet of cigarettes, stress and red wine for just over a year I’d lost well over a stone in weight and could now fit into some of their nightclub gear. So with a bottle of wine at hand I played ‘dress up’ like a little girl for four hours on the Wednesday evening; finally settling on a black velvet dress with a revealing cleavage and a chiffon over-skirt that belonged to my eldest daughter and made me look like a Gothic Fairy Godmother. Remembering Nikki’s advice I wore a very sexy matching set of black underwear with red roses on and a very shiny pair of black hold up stockings.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt that good about myself as I got out of the taxi at the pub we’d agreed to meet in prior to going to the restaurant.

“You look absofuckinglutely wonderful!” Nikki screamed as he flounced across the room to greet me with a huge bearhug. The others were already at the bar with some of their exotic friends. I was so obviously the oldest person in the group as Emma handed me a large Bacardi and Coke I really felt like chasing my taxi down the street and fleeing.

Two drinks in fifteen minutes later I was giggling at the most obscene joke in the world and sharing my cigarettes with Nikki, a punk girl with pink hair, a Marilyn Monroe look a like, a 6 feet tall muscular skinhead and a girl wearing a red PVC dress.

The rest of the night was a hilarious drunken success and passed by in flash. Eventually I was crammed into the back of a taxi between Nikki and the big skinhead who both kept lifting my dress up to my waist so that the taxi-driver could get a good look at my stockings and knickers in his rear-view mirror. Even when we got out of the taxi at my home; Jamie the pretty skinhead lifted my dress up and give the driver one last flash from behind. I don’t know why but it seemed to be the most natural and funniest thing in the world, at the time.

Once inside the house I immediately disappeared into the kitchen for yet more drinks. As I opened the bottle of wine the boys were still giggling about the taxi drivers’ reaction to seeing my stocking tops and knickers.

“Do you think he had a camera phone?” Nikki chuckled.

“I bet he did.” James the skinhead teased as I handed him his glass. “And I bet he’ll have the pictures all over the internet by now!”

“What do you mean ‘on the internet’?” I drunkenly quizzed them.

They looked at each other conspiratorially.

“On the pervy voyeur sites.” Nikki grinned.

I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders as I didn’t know what he was talking about.

He swivelled his head and spotted my computer.

“Is that switched on?” He asked as he jumped up and began pressing the mouse making the machine blink into life.

Twenty clicks later and we were all looking at pictures of housewives in various states of undress.

Nikki was in his element now and James was goading him on as I just stared in drunken wonderment as picture after picture of women of all shapes and sizes appeared on screen. Some were in normal undies, others sexy lingerie and others absolutely naked. Each set of pictures were accompanied by messages from admirers. Regardless of the attractiveness of the woman involved (some were gorgeous and others were pig ugly) the comments were always complimentary.

When I finally expressed my astonishment he clicked onto another site then another to show me that ‘women of a certain age’ had their admirers and there were hundreds and thousands of sites like the first one dedicated to women just like me.

“Have you got a digital camera?” James asked.

I opened the drawer in front of him and handed my little Fuji to Nikki.