Chapter Nine - finale

“Did you hear something?”

Courtney looked up from inspecting her reflection critically in a silver hand mirror Claude had handed her once he had pronounced himself satisfied with her final appearance.

She looked incredibly refreshed, as though the vivacious artist had chipped twenty years off her face. Once sallow cheeks were plump and firm again. Worry lines and crows feet gone as if they had never existed. Her lips were two puckered rose petals, superbly soft and vibrant red, while her previously tired eyes shone like pale sapphires reflecting health and a fresh glimmer of hope for the future.

...and her hair!

Her limp caramel locks were now glossy and bouffant to the ****. Long and lustrous. Quaffed and styled into a larger-than-life 1950’s updo of toffee-colored curls and homemaker rolls that dwarfed the rest of her prim and proper figure in marvelously hairsprayed proportions.

“Hear what, Madame?” Celine inquired from where she stood by the curtained doorway, straight-backed and with both hands clasped demurely over her waist. The saucy, knowing look she shot Courtney belied her prissy facade of polite meekness. “Perhaps Adam is playing with the sound system again. He is what you American’s might call… a scamp.”

“Lord, please give me the strength to endure the foolishness of my apprentices.” Claude clasped his hands dramatically together in prayer as he beseeched the heavens through the cheap plasterboard ceiling tiles. “They mean well, but behave poorly at times.”

Courtney looked down at her high heeled feet in a wash of embarrassment to avoid the lip-licking grin Celine sent her way. She didn’t want to gainsay a man–especially one as knowledgeable and as talented as Monsieur Claude–knowing it wasn’t her place as an unattached spinster hoping to snare a steady beau of her own. Preferably one with the money and means to keep her and Violet.

“I’m sure you know your people best, Mister Bimbeau.” She deferred, blushing under all the attention. “Thank you for all your time and effort…”

“Claude, Madame, for the last time–you must call me Claude!” He begged, reaching up to clutch her folded hands in his own. “It has been my life's joy to work on a canvas such as yourself. Truly a diamond in the rough, worn down by modern ideologies only to be uplifted by that which actually matters. I must thank you for gifting me the opportunity to work my humble art upon your buried brilliance. Bringing your truest self to the fore.”

Only needing to lean in a fraction, Claude kissed the backs of her hands then swept into a low bow that brought his unwavering ginger pompadour to a level with Courtney’s knees.

Knees that were covered by the long flaring skirts of a polka dot swing dress. Celine certainly had an eye for flattering figures and fashion. A broad red belt encircled Courtney’s elegant hourglass waist, meant to draw perspective stares to marvel at the narrow contrast to her wide child-bearing hips and full generous bosom.

It was a wonder what a spa treatment and some carefully selected clothing could do for a lady!

The short sleeves and modest vee neck of the black and white dress showed off a suitably modest amount of perfectly supple skin. There was even a small bow stitched into the center of the angled neckline to highlight the heavy swell of pale cleavage peeking out from within.

Not too much though, Courtney did not wish to be mistaken for a coquette.

Her new underthings would take a little getting used to. The extravagant ensemble of satin garters, straps, girdles and belts felt luxurious against her tender skin and far from uncomfortable. Even the crimson scarpin heels were a perfect fit on her dancers feet and had a smashing effect on her smooth shapely legs.

“Honestly, I feel like a whole new lady… Claude.” She blushed at the familiar use of his first name given their short acquaintance and fiddled with the lacy wrists of her white gloves. “I could be Audrey Hepburn reborn. You and your team are simply amazing.”

“Such high praise from a lady of your quality is the reason we do what we do and payment enough for all of our humble efforts.” Claude said, gently shepherding her towards the door. “I can truthfully say it was my pleasure to work upon a vision of refinement and conviction such as yourself. Please allow me to see you out.”

Courtney couldn’t help but appreciate his compliments and fine manners. They were in lamentably sad supply these days. Celine dutifully drew back the curtain with a small curtsy and a lecherous gleam in her eye as they glided back out into the salon.

“Oh, wow! Mommy… is that you?”

Her beaming daughter was propped up in the main stylist chair with that polite young man Adam touching up her smeared makeup and fixing her extraordinarily blonde hair up in a kittenish bun. It had the wet sheen of fresh product combed through it and two fat drill curls framed her smiling face in place of her dreary old bangs.

“Of course, Dear. Do you like my new look?” Courtney asked, turning her face to the side and patting the massively poofy rolls of her caramel hairdo like a posing pinup model. “It’s not too much, is it?”

“Not at all!” Violet bounced in place, clapping her hands excitedly. “You’ll be laying them out in the streets when you walk by.”

Courtney glowed with pride, even as she critically appraised her own daughter's new getup.

Violet’s breasts were entirely too large for her skimpy little black dress. Stuffed like weather balloons into a scandalously small black zebra-print number. Well, the former couldn’t be helped–she took after her mother in the chest department after all–and the latter was just another symptom of the impressionable nature of today's youth.

Courtney blamed MTV and the internet for corrupting the current generation. She made a mental note to have a proper sit down talk with her daughter about it later.

“Your phone, Madame.”

Celine appeared by her side with the silver tray in hand. Balanced atop it were two phones; Violet’s and her own with a notification symbol blinking in the corner of the screen. Courtney had missed a few calls.

“Mmmwah~! Thanks for everything, Stud.” Violet said, hopping up to land a sloppy kiss on Adam’s lips before wrapping herself up in a fluffy white jacket with a girlish giggle. “Call me for a good time when you’re next in town, ‘kay?”

“I wish you nothing but joy and happiness in all your future endeavors, Miss Vi.” The dark-haired assistant stated sincerely with a formal nod of his handsome head. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“Wasn’t it just!”

Courtney missed the exchange as her attention was monopolized by her phone. She had no fewer than three missed calls from the most eligible Jack Shefield. A stalwart bachelor and successful businessman who just happened to be available and in the market for a new home. A financial pillar of the community here in small-town Frederick, Maryland.

A big fish for any woman who could reel him in for keepsies. One that could support her dream of quitting her dolorous day job and becoming a happy homemaker.

A happy horny housewife to fuck bare foot and pregnant in the kitchen.

With a wistful sigh and a hot twinge of her nethers, Courtney slipped the phone in her purse and turned back to Claude and his two lovely assistants. Violet was making kissy faces at herself in the mirror, giggling vapidly as she tried to rearrange her enormous breasts in her tiny black dress.

“Thank you again and it was wonderful meeting you all.” She said in farewell, performing a prim little curtsy. One heeled foot behind the other and skirts outstretched. “I can honestly say I will remember today for the rest of my life.”

“Me too!” Violet exclaimed, bobbing in a jerky bow that shook one of her buoyant tits loose. “Woops… ‘scuse me.”

Claude whipped out a floral handkerchief to dab at his eyes as she corrected the wardrobe malfunction with an embarrassed giggle. Violet was doing that a lot all of a sudden. Giggling that was, Courtney thought it sounded… merry.

”Au revoir, Madame.” The flamboyant artist sniffled. “You were a breath of fresh air and my finest masterpiece yet. Go forth and fly in the face of modern conventions to find your happiness.”

“Bless you, Claude.” She said with a gentle smile for the dear little man. “Come along Violet, Mommy has a few calls to make and then we are heading straight home. You can help me bake a pie for a very special client.”

Linking arms with her daughter they walked out the door, high heels clicking in unison on the spotless linoleum floor.

Outside, the mall was still dim and deserted but Courtney’s future looked bright. Full of flouncy hairdos, lovey-dovey marital sex and maybe even babies. She certainly didn’t look or feel too old to pop out a few more ankle-biters, and her ovaries were practically purring at the very idea.

“Byyyeee!” Violet sang back over her shoulder, then nearly tripped over her own feet as Courtney steadied her. Her little girl could be such a top-heavy klutz sometimes. “Sooo~ this is, like, totally a guy we are cooking for, right?”

“A very wealthy and important client who also happens to be a man.” She confirmed with a hint of heat dusting her already rouged cheeks. She turned her face away and poofed up a huge roll of toffee-coloured hair with the palm of her hand. “Somehow I feel like today is the day that I land him as a long-term prospect.”

“Oooh, like a sugar daddy?” Violet giggled naughtily, hungrily licking her pillowy lips and twirling one of her giant drill curls around a lacquered fingertip. “Does that mean I’ll get to call him Daddy too?”

Courtney rolled her eyes skyward in exasperation. Her precious daughter could be incorrigible at times but that was simply the youth of today. Maybe the guiding hand of a big strong man like Jack Shefield with his big strong dick was just what the impetuous young lady needed to get back on the straight and narrow.

“We’ll see, Sweetie, we will see.” She replied warmly, hugging her close as they tottered together out into the noonday sunlight of the empty parking lot. “Let’s just say that after this morning, I think big things are on the horizon for both of us.”

Violet giggled again, then cheered in happy agreement...

“Yay, that sounds yummy!”

THE END

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