“Red suits you,” he’d said as he removed my underwear. Later I lay satisfied, spent and sweaty in his arms.
Choosing a scarlet lingerie set, more see-through lace than fabric, I made my way to the counter to pay.
“Are you sure, Madam?’ I ignored the supercilious saleswoman’s obvious amusement.
Back home I scooped my eighty-five year old sagging breasts into the uplifting red cups, squeezed my flabby backside into the lacy briefs, then took an erotic step back in time.