Girlfriend With Benefits

by SillyBoy

 

As seems to happen a lot, this visit to the bookstore resulted in a book jumping off the shelf and into my hands. The latest in one of my my favorite author's series of sci-fi books, I had to buy it. I knew I could order it online for a bit cheaper but buying a book is an experience; something to be savored. The whole thing is cheapened when it is just a transaction that results in delivery of a pound of paper bound in covers. Keep in mind, though, I'm not rich, and a big enough discount or good selection will break down my resistance. Sometimes I do order online. But, bottom line- the website doesn't have Sally behind the counter, either. She's single, about my age, almost as tall as I am, and her outgoing and unwaveringly positive outlook makes each visit feel special.

I had come into town early today because I had two computer service calls to complete before I shopped for groceries and miscellaneous hardware and returned to my house half an hour away in the woods. Running my own service business meant I was my own boss. Yeah, right! Every customer was my boss! Since I am not a native, and rather new to the area, building a business is an uphill battle, but I have enough work to keep out of trouble and well fed. What more can a guy ask.

If I didn't know Sally better I would have thought I heard her cuss. She had an online order to fill for a used book and the computer kept crashing just as she tried to get the label and stamp printed. She came over, finished my purchase, and I could see she was steaming inside. She always had something nice to say but this time she was grim and silent. I asked what was wrong (I already had a pretty good idea) and she said that the *** computer was crashing and just for once she would like to ship a book without trials and tribulations! I smiled and said "I could take a look at it, after all that is how I make all those big bucks I spend in here." She said "Well, have at it. Nothing could make it any worse." Then she paused cocked her head, and said, "Wait a minute -- that didn't come out the way I intended!". I said "Far as I can see, nothing is coming out this morning as you intended." and gave her a smile and a sympathetic pat on the back.

A couple of minutes later, my laptop and disks in hand, I went after the worm that had infected her machine. Fortunately the infection was simple and I got online with my laptop, downloaded the free fixit tool, and fixed the problem. Rebooting and checking the machine, I wrote down a list of little things to do, like catching up on her updates and backing up – nothing much. I was really pleased with myself – it was quick and easy and, most of all, it worked. Less than an hour and I was a hero!

She started demanding to pay me and I told her it was my policy not to take money from friends for simple stuff like that. She was digging in her heels and so was I. Finally, when it threatened to turn ugly, I reminded her that she had found a really obscure book for me and when she had found it, she wouldn't take any money. I reminded her she said it was the principle of the thing and she did it as a friend, not as a merchant. So, I had her, she gave up, and I chalked up one victory, gathered up my stuff and started to head out. I wanted so much more but I knew good things come to those who wait.

"I will bet you won't refuse a thank you dinner if I invite you." she said. My heart skipped a beat ... "No, I most certainly won't – that would be very nice". "How's Saturday afternoon at 5:30 to get started?" , she said. "Wonderful – You don't have to ask me TWICE" We exchanged phone numbers in case of trouble and I left feeling exhilarated.

I was floating on air as I did my service calls and errands. Then I decided to make a stop at the video store to get a movie or two and while there I noticed that they had a few classic chick flicks in their clearance bin. Hmmm – might be useful. I stocked up with movies I would have passed up any other time but wrote it off as Sally Silliness. I knew that collecting chick flicks to seduce Sally was beneath my high standards, but I headed home to do my daily chores and start reading my new book.

The winter had been fairly mild so far, and I took advantage of the merely chilly temperatures to restock my nearby firewood pile and clear snow from some areas I had been neglecting. I rather like winter – it is a time to recharge your batteries, enjoy reading and other quiet activities, and see how beautiful a snowfall can make the woods. Even the big snowstorms are good because clearing snow is good exercise. Plus -- When the world is bitterly cold, the warmth of personal contact is exquisite.

Saturday finally came and I got dressed up a bit (nice pants and sweater) to go to dinner. Sally's house was simple but very nice from the outside. I went to the door, rang the bell, and she opened it. She wore a pretty, light, violet, and very silky dress; one she might wear in the store, so I was glad I had chosen my good clothes. She took the wine I brought, wrapped her arms loosely around me, and placed a nice peck on my cheek. As she pulled away she made sure she passed her lightly perfumed neck past my nose in a very graceful movement. Her delicate scent registered in my brain and I am sure she felt my body respond with a quick quiver. Her expression instantly told me : Gotcha! -- and then the expression was gone. We had been friends for a good while and this was a change. Suddenly I was in deep, trusting her fully, and enjoying every minute. I had thought I was going to be the hunter and she the game, but she had other plans. My only thought was ... what fun this will be. If she stays busy hunting me, she won't even notice I am hunting her. Hmmmmm

As we walked into the kitchen I could smell the spaghetti sauce and the garlic bread was ready to put in the oven. She made a smooth and very organized pass at the stove, checking the goodies, handed me a couple of glasses, got a corkscrew, and said we needed to retire to the living room and the woodstove. This woman had her act together! The wood was piled near the stove ready for use, dinner was nicely under control on the stove, and we were going to start this late afternoon with a pleasant pause basking in the warmth of a gorgeous fire. I could feel the gentle warmth flow from the stove as well as that glass of wine and I broke the quiet by thanking her for inviting me over. I told her that I had wanted to have dinner with her but could never figure out how to invite her. I knew it sounded silly after I said it but there it was, she already knew I liked her a lot, and now my hunting career was just about over. Disarmingly, she slid over closer to me and said that she was thinking exactly the same thing. There went another little quake that I am sure she detected. My plan to be smooth and detached went right out the window.

We sipped our second glass of wine sitting as closely as we could and, when I sensed that she was going to get up, I leaned over, planted a soft kiss on her cheek, and told her that now we were even. A smile gradually broke out over her face, she looked at me with a twinkle in her eye and said dinner was calling. I could see that this evening was going to be exquisite. We were locked in a delicate game of mutual seduction and I had not the slightest idea where we would end up. I just knew that it would be wonderful.

Back to the kitchen we went – the pasta went in the pan of boiling water and I lit the candles on the table. We carried the courses to the table and sat quietly for a little while. After filling our plates we took a few bites and then we paused for a moment. I had always thought she looked pretty but in the candle light she was gorgeous. The flickering light and shadows magnified her expressions and I could see a loving caring person across from me.

"You buy futuristic geek books, sci-fi classics, and then books on spirituality, science, back to nature, and even feminist authors. You fix computers with no muss, fuss, nor bother. Would you mind explaining yourself?" she said with a broad smile. She knew she had me – If I know what a person reads, assuming they read at all, I know a lot about that person. There is only so much time and what you read shows your priorities like nothing else. My first thought was wow- she cuts to the chase and takes no prisoners. "I have to say, you have me dead to rights.", I said. I could feel a smile coming and I said "I guess I better confess now, and skip the torture phase". "Hmmm" she said, "Don't worry, torture is good for SO MANY things."

I paused with a deep breath to absorb what she said, and then to form an answer to her question. The pause was so long I felt the need to justify it ..."That is a very good and worthy question. Please let me compose a proper answer." .... <pregnant pause> I needed to clear my mind of her torture comment and my growing feelings for her ... "Well, where do I start ... Let me do the easy ones ... the geek books just confirm the out of control future I expect to see. That's why I live out in the woods where I can be what I want to be without a lot of the world encroaching. Ditto, really, for sci-fi classics but sometimes the sci-fi authors develop the characters and situations more. They are older than the geeks and more experienced, but I also remember when I was a young geek. So, I listen to both the old authors and the geeks, and they have good things to say. To me, science is really important to life and man's pursuit for meaning that is based on more than faith. "Back to nature" gives me lots of pointers on how I can live more simply and extract bountiful natural pleasures from the world around me. And ... spirituality covers everything Science and the others haven't conquered and, in the end, gives me guidance for my life when all else comes up empty." It was then I realized that if a relationship with a woman was ever to improve me, this woman had promise – Never had I stated my philosophy of life so succinctly and precisely. I was feeling very proud of myself but I hoped I was not revealing my surprise. I am very proud of my humility.

I knew I could talk at length on any topic but I really wanted to find out who this wonderful person was who knew me like an open book yet didn't pounce. I had to assume that she already knew this about me and was simply testing my honesty. If I were in her shoes I would have figured it out from the reading list. I better start assuming I have met my match, which is what I have been seeking a long, long time.

"Enough about me, I don't know what you read, you have the advantage on me, so what do you read, and why?" I felt proud I had both phrased my question and gotten my <excellent, if I do say so myself> question in edgewise. "Not so fast, BUDDY" she said. "So, how do you explain the feminist authors?"

Uh Oh, she is listening. "Well, this is going to sound kinda strange," I paused. After knocking around this world for a while I have discovered that SOME feminists have gone beyond the fact that the majority of guys are sh*ts, which is true, to the fact that males and females face exactly the same problems and if both sexes could just look beyond their immediate wins and losses they would join in fighting the real problems facing humanity. Feminists perceive things differently so they understand problems others take for granted. So, I could give a crap whether somebody calls an author a feminist. The point is, does he or she have a handle on the truth? If so, then I want to read the books. If not, it is just media clap-trap."

I was amazing myself. I had not put my foot in my mouth once. She was on a fast path to understanding me. The fear that comes from trusting someone gripped me. I really, really wanted her but I also feared what might happen if she understood me. I gathered my thoughts back together and repeated my question, feeling very proud of my focus in the presence of major distraction. "So ... now ... what do you read, ... and why?"

She responded with another brief smile – one that you would miss if you weren't paying really good attention. She could see that this was going to be an interesting dance. I registered her response and waited. She asked "Well, what do you think I read?" Damn, she was going to make this hard. Keep him talking – the basic rule of first dates. Search for the guy's ego button and get him to talk on and on about nothing. Hand him a bucket and brush and watch him paint himself into a corner. Been there, done that. My brain spun trying to think of the right thing to say and then I thought of Jane Austen stories and said ... "The guy in Jane Austen stories would revere his lady so much that he would not answer that question; fearing that an educated woman would see through him and reject his superficial response. My presumption of what you read is immaterial. I suspect, and soon will prove, that you have diverse and interesting tastes."

She realized she had met her match. I was feeling really geeked because I could see that I was exceeding anything I had done before. I asked myself whether I wanted to proceed ... this was becoming a high stakes game. But, I also realized that I already made it farther than I could expect only because she led me to excel. I really wanted to see this relationship flourish. In short, I was a melted pool of putty waiting for her to collect me up and make me her lover.

We both paused our conversation to sneak in a few bites of the delicious spaghetti. I tried to capture her beautiful face and absorb all the details without appearing to stare. I wanted her to feel comfortable. If she was trying to compose an answer her face did not show it.

There were books scattered neatly about the house but no concentration I had seen. I guess if you have a bookstore, bookshelves in your home are redundant. A warm smile flickered across her face and she answered.

"I read a lot of different kinds of books. I am ashamed to admit that I like reading romance novels. I like being transported to a different time when life appeared simpler and romance could flourish. I know they're silly but I like them. I like books on psychology because the workings of the mind are such a wonderful mystery. When you understand psychology even a little it enriches your contacts with people just like learning biology makes a nature hike more interesting. Also, learning more about psychology is like watering and weeding the flower bed that is the mind. I like biographies because I can take ideas from people's lives and knit them into my own. And, I love historical novels, probably because they are like romances but have a better reputation. All in all, not very mysterious." A soft smile spread across her face maybe as a result of noticing my rapt attention. I had the feeling I could have been slack jawed, for all I knew. I quickly composed myself and thought about her answer.

He who hesitates is lost. "So, sir, if you wouldn't mind telling me, how it is that you imagine yourself as a guy in a Jane Austen novel." "Oh, good question", I said, "It all started out innocently enough. I like to study topics until I feel I understand them. I made the mistake of deciding to understand women. For guys, women are in the top ten mysteries of all time. So, I thought I would investigate."

I continued " Evolutionary biology gave me lots of insights into gender behavior and wiring differences between men and women. Lots of strange facts in that area. But, I ran out of new ideas before I had any answers. So, I looked at modern authors on the topic of women but most of the books were shallow and not enlightening. Then I saw a Jane Austen movie and rented it. It was really interesting to observe women and men in a radically different place and time. I got an audiobook and listened to Sense and Sensibility while driving on a trip. Then after a while I got a book and read it. The language in her books is exquisite and she makes the reader stand back and pause now and again. She has a way of dropping big ideas into your brain using very few words. I am gradually trying to read more of her books. I don't generally spread that fact around since most people would think me strange."

This time it was she who was trapped in thought. I paused a moment and went back to my spaghetti. I was briefly at a loss for words or ideas. I was really enjoying the time with somebody whose mind was razor sharp. I knew she was investigating me, and I was determined to figure her out too. This was fun. "So, are you afraid of being strange?" she said. "No, far from it", I said, "I don't cultivate strangeness but I don't restrict it either. To steal your metaphor, I guess the flower garden of my mind is a meadow with wildflowers."

I could tell that she was getting intrigued with me. It was so easy and smooth to listen to her and keep the conversation going. I started "Speaking of strangeness, I just noticed something. I think reading Jane Austen made me spend so much time seeing the world through a woman's eyes that now, really listening to you is easy and natural." She said she noticed me really paying attention. I told her I hoped my jaw hadn't dropped and she said "No, and you held back the drool just fine too." After we regained our composure from that laugh, we returned to our dinner.

"So, what era in historical novels do you like best?", I asked. "I like the 1800s just like your friend Jane's books" she said with a smile. "There is a simplicity that comes from lots of rules governing your life. You don't have to think a lot about what to do and it gives you time to think about what you observe."

Soon, both our plates were empty but a good sip of wine remained in each of our glasses. I decided that it was time to let her know I was enjoying this. I picked up my glass and held it out as for a toast. She matched me. I said "I want to toast the finest dinner and most of all the finest company I have had in a long time. I will not soon forget it." As I drew my glass back she reached out and put her hand over mine on the table, we looked into each other's eyes in the candle light; silently savoring what could not be expressed in words.

Our reverie was broken by the sudden whistle of frigid wind circling the house. While we were enjoying our dinner a storm was gathering force and an inch of snow had already fallen. Sally turned on the weather radio to hear the announcement of a blizzard warning. Roads were closed from now until at least 2PM tomorrow. Snowfall would be on and off but the winds would make clearing roads or seeing, for that matter, impossible. I should have known. I heard that the storm was a possibility but lately all of the warnings had fizzled so I put it out of my mind.

She moved over to my side, gently held my arm in a soft cuddle, and said "Looks like it will be a sleep-over tonight." "I remember when they called them slumber parties", I said, "but I didn't bring my jammy bag." She laughed heartily and then said "The rule is the hostess of the slumber party has to take care of the guests if they forget stuff, so you are in good hands."

"My plan was that we would go to a movie after dinner but that probably wouldn't be brilliant.", Sally said. "No, that doesn't sound like fun.", I said, "Hang on a second." I took my keys from my pocket and went to the car. The wind was impressive and I was nicely frozen and snow encrusted when I returned to the house. Taking off my snowy shoes and continuing in stocking feet we went to the living room.

I told her mysteriously that this had not been my plan but instead was foolish wishful thinking. I could see her expression change to be quizzical and I could not have been more pleased. "Well, what's a slumber party without a movie?", I said. I handed her the bag with five movies in it. She took them out, looked at my selection of classic chick flicks and said "Interesting selection". I paused to let the selection sink in. I waited, hoping her comment would reveal some more about this wonderful lady. She remained silent, revealing nothing. Finally, I gave up. "They were on close-out at the video store and so cheap I had to buy them in case", I said. "In case ... in case of what?" she said. I looked her in the eyes and said "In case this wonderful evening is repeated. Even several times. Even to excess." If it were up to me the hug could have lasted forever.

We sat down side by side in front of the stove and she pored through the selection of movies. Finally she chose one of the Jane Austen ones. She said "I will bet you would have picked this one". "I haven't seen it so you might be right", I said, "though I would like YOU to pick your favorite" "This is the one," she said.

She got up, put in the DVD, started it, and came back with the remote. She handed me the remote, saying that it was my job to get through all the previews and junk while she got into something comfortable. Off to her bedroom she went. A few minutes later, out she came in a lace-trimmed red plaid flannel nightgown with fuzzy slippers. She returned to sit beside me and snuggled close. Her head landed softly on my shoulder, I wrapped my arm around her, and we just cuddled quietly. "You take cozy very seriously", I said. "One of the big pleasures of winter", she said, "is getting all cozy and reading a book by the stove. Getting cozy and sharing a movie with somebody special is right up there too" I tried to suppress the happy wiggle from hearing I was somebody special but I will bet she noticed. I realized I had nothing to hide anyway.

She snuggled closer and then said "Remember when I told you about the hostess' responsibilities?" I nodded. "Well, while I was in the bedroom I packed you your very own jammy bag so you aren't left out of the slumber party." Why don't you go in, change into something cozy, I'll make some popcorn and we'll start the movie.

I went in and looked in the bag. There were a couple pairs of panties, a nightgown just like hers but blue plaid, and coordinated fuzzy slippers. Under all of that there was a plastic and rhinestone tiara. I decided this was getting pretty strange so I went to the door and looked puzzled at her.

"That is the standard outfit for a wintertime slumber party.", she said, "and the slumber party was YOUR idea, wasn't it." Her grin melted me right then and there. "And the tiara?", I said. "Oh", she said, "the new guests at a slumber party always get to wear a jeweled tiara because they're special. Now – get yourself ready – the popcorn is coming soon."

"I stripped as quickly as possible and pulled the panties up my legs. The lace and silky fabric felt strange but pleasant. I was glad they were somewhat tight so my growing equipment was held in place. The nightgown went over my head and slithered down to the floor. The slippers were stretchy enough for my big feet. I walked around a bit and the ruffled bottom of the nightgown rubbing on my legs and ankles was wonderful. I headed back toward the couch but was stopped in my tracks. "Didn't you forget something?", she said, pointing to her head. "Oh, the tiara", I said, "no princess is complete without one." and I returned to put it on. "I feel really special, now", I said, and sat down beside her. Cozy and cuddling goes together like nothing else. She said "You are a good sport! I didn't think you would go along with it." "Why not?", I said, "What part of - nicest evening I have ever had - don't you get?" When a little tear of happiness formed in her eye, I knew what was growing between us was really special. We got locked in a hug until the sound of the popcorn reminded us there were things yet to be done.

Sally got up and went to put the popcorn in a bowl. I decided to follow her because I was already feeling at home, and not like a guest. I wanted to help if needed. I poured a couple glasses of iced tea and the caravan returned to the couch. Then she said that people with tiaras were not supposed to help, they were special. I told her that in that case, she was looking at a life sentence of wearing a tiara.

We started the movie and curled up close to each other. After the popcorn was gone, she excused herself and went to get her lipstick. I paused the movie and she returned saying how chapped her lips got from the wood stove. She applied it slowly and sensually and I tried not to stare too obviously. After her lips were delectable I told her that if she was going to make her lips that pretty, she better be ready to get them kissed. She waited a second and I kissed her as sensually as I knew how. She smiled, said that I obviously messed up her lipstick, took her mirror and touched them up; making sure I watched her slow sensual moves. After which, of course, she leaned over and kissed me with a long, passionate kiss, pressing and sliding her lips on mine. WOW! After which she said that I had messed up her lipstick again, got the mirror and touched herself up. Feeling silly, I asked for her mirror. I looked at my lips and, of course, they had smears on them. "I think all this kissing messed up my lipstick.", I said, expecting a good laugh. She did laugh but then excused herself and came back with another lipstick for me saying – this is another item for your jammy bag. Now you can fix them. Just to drive me wild, she said "follow me" and demonstrated what I was to do. She succeeded in driving me wild and I had the lips to prove it.

It was a relief to start the movie again. I was getting so turned on and falling head over heels for her. We held each other close with the warmth of the stove and our flannel nightgowns keeping us toasty. I got up and refilled our iced teas. It was then that I noticed I was leaving a lipstick mark on the glass. That was strange. After a while she turned around and said that we were going to need to redo our lipstick so we might as well mess it up thoroughly. We kissed again but this time it was a slow gentle and passionate kiss that left us both floating. Then she decided to get me good by having us do our lipstick together. When the movie finished we just shut it off and cuddled together. Neither of us wanted our cuddling to end.

Then she sat up quickly and said "I am not being a very good slumber party hostess! I need to get our next activity started." I looked at her puzzled and she said "don't worry, it's standard slumber party fare". "Me and my big mouth!", I said. She came back with her bag of nail gear and said it was my turn to do her nails. She asked if I had ever done nails and I told her I hadn't but that I used to paint model airplanes. Some of those planes looked pretty good. She took out her nail polish and presented her fingertips to me. "You ALWAYS do nails at a slumber party" First I removed the old polish and noted that on model airplanes you didn't get to remove it and retry. Then I applied a coat to each nail. I held her hands up one by one and blew gently on the nails. I could see she was enjoying it and finally she looked at them and said I could do her nails any time I wanted to.

Then she looked at my nails. I always bite my nails so there was nothing to file. She shook her head and pointed out that she had a cure for nail biting and I was about to get it. She washed the nails with remover, took my thumb, applied the prep stuff and then a drop of super glue. Out of the package came a professional length artificial nail and in an instant it was glued on. She held it for a minute to be sure it would stick and went on to the rest. After 10 nails were applied, out came the polish. Then, after all the nails were covered, she said "I hope you enjoy this as much as I did" and she slowly and sensually blew on my nails until they were dry. I am sure my face gave me away because the whole situation was turning me on. I could tell from her smile she was digging it. I decided to reciprocate "You can do my nails any time you want to." "Careful what you wish for", she said.

We took a break and looked outside. The lights of the neighbor's house were just a faint glow in the wall of blowing snow. Maybe four inches was on the ground but the high winds were keeping it moving and drifting. The blast of cold air up the bottom of my nightgown reminded me of my unique clothing. We shut the door and went over to the stove to put some more wood on the fire. She closed the glass door

on the stove and we stood up. We embraced in the warmth and glow of the fire and shared a long slow very passionate kiss. I hugged and gently rubbed her back while she did the same. We came up for air and returned to our kiss. It was terribly obvious we both were falling in love.

When we went back to the couch, she asked if I needed an example to do my lipstick. I smiled and said I probably didn't need an example but definitely wished she would give me one. She laughed and said again, I should be careful what I wish for. This time she did her lipstick even slower and more sensually. When I moved too fast, she made me start over and keep it slow. "Focus .. focus .. enjoy .. enjoy ... slow." She knew very well what was happening to me and she was glad she could make me feel such excitement. After we were done, she said that I should demonstrate what I had learned by showing her how I put on lipstick. So, if I wasn't already turned on enough, she had me repeating the lipstick slowly and sensually and with full concentration and appreciation.

I was in the process of melting into a puddle when she said she had something kinda important to discuss. She said that she felt like she was falling in love with me and was also having a great time playing together. But, she didn't want us to consummate this relationship tonight. She said maybe next time we get together, but she thought we both needed time to get our feelings sorted out.

I told her that in no other time in my life had a woman ever told me such a thing while I was standing in a lacy flannel nightie with lacy panties and fluffy slippers, long polished nails, and an exquisitely applied coating of lipstick. But, I had to agree that she was right. I said, after all, nobody ever consummates a slumber party, do they? Jane Austen would say it just wasn't done! She started laughing and got going so much that she couldn't stop. I hugged her softly until our laughter faded.

She looked me in the eyes and said "You are really a special man. I have never met someone I can be myself with and trust the way I can trust you. People can live a whole lifetime and not find someone like that." I replied "What we have is amazing and you are the most wonderful girlfriend I could ever have. I know we need to exercise restraint and if we wait until it's right it truly will be wonderful. So, for now, let's continue our slumber party but, for a while, I want YOU to be the special one. You get the tiara." I took it off and placed it on her head. She said, "I feel special already". I told her to lie down on the couch and I gave her a slow and sensual back rub paying extra attention to making sure each muscle was massaged and relaxed. Then I got on the floor, put her feet in my lap, and rubbed them slowly and gently using a sweet smelling lotion and moving in circles on the soles of her feet. I kept my stimulation just below a tickle so she would get sensory overload without realizing it. She did, and I could see her drifting off into space. Then I cleaned her nails and polished them slowly and carefully. When I blew lightly on them to dry them I felt her quiver. Gotcha, I thought.

I got up from massaging her feet and joined her on the couch. I was feeling absolutely wonderful as I put my head on her shoulder and cuddled. She was drifting into sleep and her contented moan let me know I had done my job. Not long afterwards I drifted off, hypnotized by the flickering flames of the wood stove. Something about the feel of panties, a nightgown, and fuzzy slippers made for pleasant and interesting dreams.

About 3AM a chill descended on the house because the fire was waning. I got up, added some wood, and watched as the stove returned to life. After the chill was driven away again, I woke her up with a modified version of that classic "Wake Up Little Susie" using Sally instead, and, considering her sleepiness, I was happy to see that it did very little to clear her confusion. All at once she recognized the song and joined in gleeful singing. I led her to her bed, put her tiara on the nightstand, tucked her in, and sat on the side of the bed. She was awake now but sleepy and we talked. I told her that this had already been a most exquisite evening. I also told her "I tend not to be talkative in the morning and you deserve much better than that. So, at breakfast, please ask me about the dreams I had tonight. If it's talk you want, you will get it. By the way, how do you like your eggs?" She smiled, "I don't deserve to meet, much less have, anybody like you. Dreams, you say... Over Easy" and she turned over to go to sleep. Note to self: slumber parties ultimately lead to slumber.

I went back to the couch, looked at the fire and reflected on the events of the evening. I took the mirror and decided to refresh my lipstick solo. I would no longer underestimate lips in this sensuality business. My whole body was turned on and a sensitive glow covered my skin. I really wanted to relieve myself but I didn't want to mess up her panties and I decided that I would probably have even more wonderful dreams now. The last thought I can remember is that it's gotta be love to make me happy sleeping on the couch with blue balls. That thought should have been scary and a strong warning but I was tired, after all.

The sun was just rising as the stove burned out its fuel. I awoke to a chill, got more wood onto the fire, and looked outside. Winds were still blowing, visibility was bad, and that was a bad sign - storms were usually milder in the morning. You could bet it would get worse in the succeeding hours. Well, there was no rush anyway. I didn't want to go anywhere soon. I sat worshiping the fire and its flickering face and the dreams of the previous night came back to me. I was right, blue balls did produce more dreams and they were good, too. I cursed myself for telling her to ask me about my dreams but then I was already thinking of being an item for life she should be trusted with everything.

I went in her bedroom and saw her sleeping. I sat down carefully just to watch her face. I wanted to burn that face into my memory so I could recall it in intricate detail whenever I wanted. Then I remembered women saying the morning after that they had watched my face.

That was scary on so many levels. First of all, now I knew how it felt to want to watch a face. I really wanted to watch her face and it was the feeling of love. Was I becoming a woman? Was I just understanding a woman? Wow! If she wants to talk she is going to uncover one confused puppy! The voyage to understand women is fraught with perils extreme! I slept another hour and woke up to even more dreams.

I started the coffee and looked about the kitchen for breakfast fixings. I found eggs, bacon, sausage, cinnamon raisin bread, half a cantaloupe, grapes, apples, and oranges. Buckwheat – could it be she likes pancakes? There were some frozen blueberries too. Hmmmmm

I came back to reality with a start. It was one thing to throw together an acceptable breakfast for a lover, but here I was, contemplating joyously how best to orchestrate a breakfast to please her to the extreme. My lover was so wonderful I just wanted to create a thank you that BEGAN to cover the joys I had felt. Worse – the thought of actually making that perfect breakfast excited and turned me on. I thought "Damn, I need to quit wearing this nightgown! Furthermore, the works of Jane Austen can be dangerous. Finally, Sally's words came back to me ... be careful what you wish for.

I went back to look at the fire. I was unsure of what I wanted to do so I figured I would think about it. It ended up as most things do. Fear was lobbying for inaction (in short, I should run away) while ego was lobbying for action (damn the torpedoes, go for it! Bed her quick and see what comes of it), and that seed surreptitiously planted by our friend Ms Austen, was saying that it was an honorable thing to delay gratification and make a worthy lover happy. I thought hard, looked at myself already wearing lace, flannel, and fluffy, and went with Ms Austen. Ego and Fear were disappointed, and I was glad I didn't need to get it on with Sally. Ego and fear would have gotten even with me in a heartbeat and Sally and I would both have been disappointed. I remained one confused puppy.

I returned to the kitchen and looked around. A frilly full skirted apron hung in the closet nearby along with several very sensible and basic protective aprons. I decided that I would go with the frilly apron since it looked really nice with with my lacy smocked nightgown and it felt natural with my current attitude. I put it on and went to the fridge to start on the breakfast ingredients. I filled two desert bowls with cantaloupe balls. I sliced up an apple, put in some orange slices, added some grapes, and squirted a spritz of whipped cream on the top. I looked at my creation and I thought that the TV chefs really needed Sally to motivate them. Then they needed to get in a nightgown, a frilly apron, and fluffy slippers, and they would be able to create wonders. The only thing that stopped my giggles was the thought that Sally was still sleeping and unable to rescue me.

I mixed up some buckwheat pancakes with blueberries and set them aside. Then I cooked up a serving of bacon, a serving of sausage, eggs over easy and eggs scrambled. I started the pancakes. The over easy eggs were the last because I know how I hate cold eggs. Right on cue the toast popped out of the toaster. I put her breakfast on a tray and headed to her bedroom. She awoke and looked at the feast before her. Then she looked at me in the frilly apron and smiled and I knew then I had done well. She was turned on. I handed her the tray and planted a soft kiss on her lips. She said .. your lipstick is fresh – and I said "well, what would you expect? We have standards to keep."

I went back to the kitchen to get my breakfast and the sausage/bacon. I returned with the goodies and asked her which she wanted. It turns out she is a sausage fan, so I had the bacon to myself. We sat eating our breakfast but each time our eyes met we got stuck looking at each other. It was quite a challenge to look away, so our eyes spent a long time locked into each other. Each time we locked eyes I could feel myself melting further.

Finally, she reminded me I told her to ask me about my dreams. Damn! She remembered! Why did I tell her that?! I took a moment to compose my thoughts and started. "Ya know, revealing dreams is the ultimate trust. What is in dreams is the most fundamental stuff in the mind and if this were a poker game, I would be showing my hand. But, you know, if I can't share it with you now, I may not get another chance, so here goes. Please, though, be patient and kind. Promise I get a second chance if I need it?" My ego told me "God, you are a pussy whipped wuss." I told my ego "I'll take that as a compliment."

Dream #1 – I am walking down a church aisle seeing the world through a bridal veil. When I reach the preacher you are similarly in a bridal gown and veil. We promise simply to love each other always share decisions, and put each other above ourselves. The preacher likes our vows, he pronounces us married, and we lift each other's veils and kiss; sharing our soft lipstick lips with each other. At the reception I spend an awful lot of time complaining that my high heels are making my feet hurt. You try to be sympathetic but your patience is growing thin and it becomes clear that you will get even with me later. Sally said "You got that right, go on."

Dream #2 – We are married and living at home. You are coming home from work and I am getting ready for your arrival. One last quick check of the food on the stove. I take my hair out of rollers, brush it thoroughly, spritz some perfume on my neck and sit down for a few minutes awaiting your arrival. I notice that I am an old married person and still have a serious case of butterflies when my lover is coming home. Sally looked me in the eyes and said "Wow .... Nice ... No, very nice ... go on ..."

Dream #3 – We're on vacation. I am dressed normally as a guy in pants and shirt and you look normal too. We are walking down a street holding hands and talking. "OK," she said, "More?"

Dream #4 – I am working outside splitting logs and stacking wood and have just finished the second cord of firewood for the season. I am rather pleased with myself and give you a hearty wave. You call to me, tell me that I promised we could have a special dinner tonight, and you tell me to get myself to the bath and into my new outfit posthaste! "Boy, that sounds just like me," she said, and a broad smile took over her face.

So, I said, what do you think of those dreams? She said, well, what do you think? I said "that is not a fair question. I revealed all my secrets in their most primitive, subconscious, and basic form, and you ask ME what I think? I should refuse to answer, but, you know, you deserve an answer. So here it is. I contemplated the meaning of these dreams a lot because I knew you would probably ask. My analysis is Ecstatic, Extremely, Seriously Lovestruck, Very Confused Puppy."

"Well, I have to agree with your analysis and I love you very very much too.", she said, "and I think you have hit every nail precisely on the head. That bodes well for our growing relationship. So, what do you have to say for yourself?

"Hold on", I said, "What do I have to say for myself? I think I have said entirely enough for myself. I have already revealed that somewhere in the back of my mind I am willing to be your bride. And, you know, it seems a part of me could really dig that. Furthermore I could easily fall into a pattern of excitedly cooking meals and preparing for your arrival home by making myself the pinnacle of desirability. It is very disturbing that I dig that also. I think the third dream was just a concession to my sanity to allow for the possibility that I could come out of this as a normal male. Finally, I dream that I split wood and wear new outfits. And, you know what, right now that makes the most sense. Somebody has to split the wood around here.

"So, for example", she said, you might like to be a man all day and do lots of useful and manly stuff, and then don a dress or a nightgown in the evening and be my best girlfriend?, she said. I was on a roll. "Well, that might not be too bad, but I am a man at night too. That means I want to please you every night. I might like you to be on top now and again, maybe even a lot, but I want to please you with my manhood. Here I sit, with my lacy nightgown, a frilly apron I chose for myself because it felt somehow consistent and right, fluffy slippers, and fresh lipstick. And I am saying I want to please you as a man. But, that is what I want. I want to be the man you come to for the most sensual, soft, firm, powerful, and powerless expression of love you could ever imagine. If that's what you want, you have it. If not, we certainly did have a wonderful time."

I saw her jaw drop. Oops, I thought. Blew it, I thought. Then, the thought arose that there is a point where you need to stand your ground and if she doesn't like it, then that is tough. Better to find out early. My stomach tied itself up in the finest of knots. Why did I spew from my heart?

I was not stupid. I knew we were stuck in here for a good while, there was no reason I could find to change my clothes, and so everything was stable, if not desirable. We had time to work this out, but the fettish femdom scene was not going to follow this one. We were going to craft a good relationship or not at all.

Sally lay back and was very quiet. I decided it was time to follow up with her. Still water runs deep. I went in and sat down on the side of her bed. I got up again and sat down smoothing the skirt of my nightgown so I was comfortable. She noticed and smiled.

Then she rolled over. I rubbed her back sensually for a bit. Then I decided to talk. I figured I had nothing to lose. "You know, I could have teased you until you wanted me so bad that I would have been invited to make love to you. Whether you believe it or not, I know I could have done it. Been there, done that. But, you know what? I can't do that with you. You know why? Because you are worth waiting for until you are ready. I already love you and if I need to give you up then so be it. But, I don't give up easily. So, you are stuck with me. She motioned for me to join her and I cuddled up next to her. We drifted off to sleep.

I dreamed more. Those dreams I will not even begin to reveal because they were so sensual and so loving and so close to the foundation of my being that nobody is allowed to see them. Suffice it to say that the previous four dreams were way too tame to capture my real feelings.

When we awoke I shared the remaining dreams with her. We cuddled some more and I was so turned on by her being that I was crazy for the lady. We got up and started brunch. She brought up her friend Donna and the fact that she had planned brunch with her. I told her that I needed to change clothes soon and yes, it would be fun to entertain her. She said, "No, please keep on your nightgown and put on your apron too when needed. She is a really close friend, if you expect to share my life (Wow, she catches on fast!) then we are all close friends. I looked at her eyes, locked into them, and asked her if she felt I was safe in doing this. She looked back into the depths of my being and said that I was. I told her that I had just left my comfort zone and was marching forward into uncertainty with only her trust to cling to. She hugged me and kissed me in an unending sensual connection between our souls.

I told her to invite Donna here if she was going to be cool. I told her that this was much higher stakes than I was used to, but if it turned out well, then we were definitely an item. I asked her not to violate my trust; she said she would never do such a thing.

After maybe half an hour Donna showed up. She came in the door, looked me up and down still in my nightgown and apron, and expressed her approval of Sally's taste. I felt strangely wonderful, though I could not figure out why she was immediately so in favor. Then I saw the two women together. They were very very close, maybe sexual in their connection but if not, then they were some kind of soul mates.

After a little while, Donna started talking with me. She was as intense with me as I saw she was with Sally. She asked direct questions and was both gentle and firm. I felt like I was already interviewing with Sally's father and I was the future son in law who was going to marry his daughter and steal her from him while costing him a fortune for a wedding.

Questions like that were easy to consider coming from a cigar smoking guy offering you a scotch, neat, but when they were coming from a woman dressed in a lacy and frilly blouse, a soft suit with very feminine shoulders, and a pleated soft skirt reaching to her knees, it was disarming. I told her as much, since honesty was my big suit. She told me that she was Sally's best girlfriend and she was watching over her like a mother hawk over her brood. I noticed with bit of trepidation that this lady was no mother hen watching over her brood. She was most certainly a mother hawk.

After maybe an hour and a half she finished with the pointed questions and we relaxed. She hinted that I was now a member of the brood she so vigorously watched. I recognized I wasn't sure I want to be in her brood, but I was tired, I apparently had passed the test, and Sally was already taking over my thoughts. This was interesting in the extreme, but I was far from comfortable in the situation.

I excused myself to go do brunch, since I had said that I wanted to cook brunch as an appreciation for my pleasures so far. Donna stayed back with Sally and talked for a bit. Then she came out to the kitchen as I was busy cooking in my frilly apron.

Donna said she wanted me to start maintaining her dress shop computer system. She said that I was already proven as a computer fixer and that I should get whatever price I want. I told Donna that I would like to look at the situation before quoting a price but it doubtless would be reasonable. A friend of Sally's is a friend of mine. Then Sally told me she already negotiated my first visit pricing as any outfit I wanted to have from her dress shop inventory. Before that could really sink in Sally started to work on the other half of the agreement ....

We agreed that I would dress in feminine finery because it was really turning Sally on. My next Wednesday came and I visited Donna to do her routine maintenance on her computer. I fixed her registry and her machine booted up much faster. She said that I should look through her inventory and select anything I wanted ... her machine was running so much better that I had earned whatever I wanted. She owned the finest dress shop in town so my selection was unlimited.

I went through Donna's inventory carefully and found a denim dress that had pockets and the skirt came just to my knees. I looked at it and then tried it on. It fit perfectly and the pockets meant that I might not need a purse to survive life in the world. Donna found a lacy slip with lace around the breast and around the skirt. I put it on and enjoyed the slip a lot.

Later that week Sally and I had a date. When I went to visit Sally and sat down, I didn't notice that the lace on my slip was showing beneath the bottom of my skirt. Sally noticed, pointed it out, and I said "Well, that's just the kind of girl I am". Sally laughed and got really turned on, and we made sensual love for hours. I changed into an exquisite nightgown and spooned her all night.

Sally decided that I needed to practice with dresses and other finery to learn what I was getting into. Week One was dress week. I could choose any dress I wanted, or many, and wear them for one full week. I wore my denim dress with a several very frilly slips, As usual, I was to have no orgasms all week and make a full report at the end of the week. I made the full report to her great satisfaction and joy. A long evening of mad, passionate love made it all worthwhile. I really learned to like my denim dress and I could see it was already showing some wear. Wow! I am wearing out a dress.

Week 2 was Bridesmaid week and I had to wear a different bridesmaid's dress every day of the week. The used clothing store had quite a windfall because I bought 5 dresses, wore each one once, and donated them back. Each day I had to wear a dress, heels, makeup, put on perfume, and look at myself in the mirror 10 times a day and make sure I was just right. She didn't let on, but I think it was intended to convince me that extreme femininity was truly not my goal in life. The week did a very good job of that. By the end of the week I longed for the simplicity of wearing the dress from the previous week. HANG ON!!! There I go, wishing I could wear simple dresses. One Confused Puppy.

The next week was Dream Week. We got five very nice basic but sensual dresses at the used clothing store and every day I put one on after finishing the housework and the cooking. I dressed, did my makeup, perfume, and sat to await her arrival home. I felt butterflies every day. When she came home, shivers ran up and down my spine, and as soon as dinner was finished, I was in a sensual nightgown and we were making love. Dream week was really nice for both of us. I was falling for her hard, and she was enjoying every minute. I wanted Dream Week to continue forever and she said we should continue Dream Week the next week too. I agreed heartily and she hugged me very tight.

Wednesday morning came, and as usual, it was time to stop by at 8am to do the routine maintenance on donna's computer. Microsoft had just issued their patches, so I did an update on the system. Then, I checked it out, backed it up, and was done (except for waiting for stuff to finish) at about 8:30. She said, "time to select something special this morning." we had agreed that I would do her maintenance on a weekly basis in return for a free shopping foray into her dress shop. She liked getting her work for trade, and I really liked getting hints and help from sally's best friend. Becoming sally's girlfriend was quite a burden on my clothing budget. I was quickly getting whipped on sally and donna knew it. I just knew she could be trusted to represent sally's taste so I asked her opinion a lot.

We walked through the store, and then she said, "hey, I have some new stock. Wanna see what is new while you help me hang it on the racks? You have seen everything else here anyway. Ok, I said, since I had little else to do for about half an hour. She opened a big box and started pulling unbelievably frilly, lacy, and ruffled dresses from it. I held one up. What are these, I said. She said they were tea-party dresses and that she already had one in a light blue while sally had one in a pastel green. "well, I guess that leaves pink and yellow lonely and out in the cold", I said. She looked at me with a wry smile and said she thought we could cure that problem.

Donna told me the history of the dresses; how mothers in town had decried that all their daughters were becoming tomboys and had started a tea-party club to give their daughters a consistent frou-frou experience. Now, almost all mothers and daughters got these dresses sometime in childhood, usually when the girl was 8-10 years old, and the parties were a major feminine bonding experience for all involved. Mothers and daughters would dress alike and attend the parties, and some girls, who got stuck in the frou-frou phase, would even mentor younger girls when they reached their teen years. Tom boys were now few and far between.

Then, she said, "i would bet you could really enjoy frou-frou. I promise to be hostess for enough tea parties for you to master the fine points and I am sure sally would be delighted. Believe it or not, this can be lots of fun." and, you would no longer be a tom boy. I said "when was the last time you could confuse me with a tom boy?" donna laughed heartily , and I made my decision. Neither sally nor donna had yet led me astray, so I said "let's go for it."

Donna told me that this time I would have to wait for my pink shopping bag of goodies for my work but that she thought I had earned a complete outfit. Real frou-frou requires fitting so I needed to come back this evening just at closing time and she would fit me for the whole outfit after she closed the store. I told her I would be back.

I had a full day's work so I actually had to rush to make closing time. Donna greeted me warmly and said we had to get going. That was just as well; this was already a long day. She had me go into the fitting room and she took some measurements before I stripped to my skin. She handed me a body briefer over the door and said I should put it on. She pointed out that the split in the crotch was intended to overlap when I got it on. It was tight but could have been worse. After I had it on, she said, "are you decent?" I replied yes, and she came in. She told me to be mellow, that she had to show me this, and that she meant nothing improper. She reached down just beyond the tip of my penis, grabbed a pinch of the fabric, and made more room for my "little guy".

She pointed out that my comfort depended on keeping enough room as he grew (surprise, she knew about men!) And that I should just excuse myself and make room now and again when needed. She said, here, let me demonstrate – and she gently touched her nails to the area pointing out how nice and flat it kept me. I inhaled and tried to remain calm. After a minute or two I was squirming and she reached down to make more room. As I smiled with relief she pointed out that if I made enough room I would not have to break my promise of no orgasms between times of seeing sally. She locked her eyes on mine, touched me gently down there again, and when my squirming became obvious, she made me prove I knew how to make room for myself. I did make room – she made me feel Wow.

Then she said that the next step was the petticoat. She lectured me that petticoats were really special, they were the most sensual of feminine finery, and that they could give great pleasure to those who appreciated them. She said they were even nicer when delicately scented so she had taken the liberty of scenting mine. She handed it to me and I looked at the lovely lace trim for the breasts and then the explosion of lace and finery at the skirt. She said that I should grasp it at the waist with my hands, hold the full part of the skirt facing me, and bury my face in the finery. As soon as I did she said I should close my eyes, feel the lace, and inhale the scent deeply. She had chosen sally's scent, the one she wore when we first made love. She held my hands gently and swished them side to side and up and down washing my face in the powerful scent of sally and the sensuality of the petticoat. "time to make more room", she said, and she pulled the petticoat away from my face. I came back to reality long enough to realize she was right, and stretched the body briefer more to make room for my not so little buddy.

She helped me put the petticoat over my head and had me take one last deep sniff of the scent as it passed my nose. She pulled it down and adjusted the length. I looked at the petticoat and thought how wonderful it felt but how strange and feminine it looked. Yellow did not go with my skin so she brought in the pink confection of a dress and held it up for me to view in the mirror. She pointed out how the puffy sleeves were designed to highlight my femininity and make me aware of it all the time. Then she pointed out how the cuffs on the puffy lace and net sleeves buttoned up to wrap the arms just perfectly to keep a feminine look. Finally, she pointed out how the zipper in back was best zipped by a mother but could be zipped with an extension hook, that she gave me. She pointed out that the dresses were available with buttons in back too, but then would always require assistance to put on and take off. Maybe later you will want one like that, she said, with that wry smile again. I looked at the hook, tried to hook it into the zipper, and upon succeeding, I asked her to zip me up. She came over and said, "what, are you getting too excited?". "no", I said, "i just thought..." "oh" she said, "you just want mommy to zip you up." "close enough", I said. "well, such things have a price", she said, as she reached down and gently rubbed my member though the petticoats until I needed to make more room. I said "that is the most pleasant price you could ever ask." and she smiled. I could see why confining my willy was a good idea, it was at least possible to keep from having an orgasm, though I had not been this turned on in a while.

Donna zipped up the dress and took me to the mirror. I looked and saw myself floating in a sea of pink femininity. I saw nothing of the man who started this and instead I saw a person who was wrapped in sensuality and softness. Shock overtook me and I could think of nothing to say except a most heart-felt thank you and the desire to retreat to a place of safety where I could think about what happened.

Darkness came early in winter. I looked outside and saw that it was pitch dark. Donna said, "i suggest that you keep this outfit on until you get home. Then, when you decide to take it off, just remember to take the petticoat off and bury your face in the frou-frou while you inhale deeply. Keep doing that until you can no longer stand the tightness below, and then make room for your little buddy. If I were you, I would keep the body briefer on all night and sleep in it."

"why", I said. "well", she said, "you will find keeping your promise of no orgasms to be easier if you do. And, we all know how important that is." thus brought down to earth, I thought how much trouble I was in. My manhood was raging while I was wearing the most wonderful of femininity. I was listening to how I could avert the orgasm I wanted so desperately and it was making sense. I was about to ignore my masculine drives in favor of the woman I loved, and I was strangely joyous about it.

I had become used to getting instructions whenever something big, like this dress, happened. I figured they would tell me how to cope with it. As expected, donna said, "make a good space and hang up the petticoat and dress in your closet when you take them off. Then, no matter how strange you think it is, just follow your desires. But make sure you keep your promise to sally.

Boy, that was plenty cryptic but I headed back home driving my car and wearing this incredible dress. When I got home, I made several false starts in the attempt to remove my dress. Every time I decided that I could just wait a bit longer, and that the dress felt too good to remove. Then, I remembered the nightgown she gave me in my bag. I held it up and realized that if I wanted to sleep, then the femininity of the nightgown looked pretty adequate to let me sleep.

I used the zipper tool, got the dress unzipped and removed, and raised the slip over my head. Then, the scent of my sally struck my nose, and I laid down on the bed, petticoat over my head, and drank in her scent as I gently rubbed my face. I was still somewhat dizzy when I awoke from my reverie, and I finally removed my slip and put on the frothy feminine nightgown that was to be my surrogate pink dress for tonight.

My penis had shrunk and little drible spots were drying on my body briefer. I remembered what donna had said, and I kept it on. I put the gorgeous nightgown on over the body briefer and drifted off to sleep. As I drifted off, I congratulated myself that I had avoided bringing myself to orgasm.

"you showed him what? He chose what?", sally said to donna the next morning. "you perfumed what? And he sensually inhaled the scent? And you showed him how to make room for his willy? And you sent him home with instructions to inhale the scent until he could stand it no more? ... How could you!!! He is my lover!!!

Sally calmed down and continued: "donna, I know you never really agreed that using the tea party dresses on troublesome boys was wrong. I know you pointed out that the boys became happy members of society and made wonderful wives for their lovers. And, I know that you justified your opinions by research that indicated that the "little darlings", as they came to be known, were happy and would not have their lives otherwise. But he is my lover. I want him the way he is. He was not at all troublesome and even if he was, he didn't deserve that.

Sunrise came late in the winter sky. I awoke from a dream in which I was the happiest of brides, while also being a very confused puppy. I got up, put on my chenille robe, and stoked the fire. I felt my gorgeous nightgown and my willy needed more room. I remembered and pinched the fabric, pulling it to make more room. After stoking the stove, I went to admire the lovely tea party dress and wondered why I wanted to wear it so much. The petticoat invited me to bury my face in the sweet scented lace and I made more room for my morning woody. Breakfast called, so I went to the kitchen and started it. I don't know what made me, but I went back to look at my tea party dress. I made more room down below and went back to eat. By the time I was finished I rushed to the closet, looked at my dress, pulled the petticoat off the hanger, and buried my nose in the frilly confection.

More room was demanded down below so I made some. Then I pulled the petticoat over my head, pausing a long time to again sniff the wonderful scent. After I finished with it, I put on the pink confection of a dress and used the long handle to pull up the zipper. My breasts, shaped nicely by the body briefer, stuck out just enough to be apparent and just enough to remind me that my sensitive nipples needed attention.

I looked inside the pink shopping bag I had been given the previous evening and noticed that there was a pink purse and shoes that matched the dress. I guess there was just not enough time to notice that before. Without even thinking I took my wallet from my pants pocket, removed the cards from it, and put them into the pretty pink billfold in the purse. There was enough room for my credit cards and my license, that, I noticed, was now lacking a proper picture. My lipstick went in my purse too.

I made a bit more room down below for my little buddy and called sally. It always seemed to take an eternity for her to answer but she answered sweetly. Caller id is a wonderful ego boost for nice guys and probably a bust for nasty ones.

"how are you doing?" she said. I said "absolutely wonderful but I want to come see you as soon as I can." she said "what are you wearing right now?" I told her, "my new pink dress, a gorgeous petticoat, and a body briefer that helps me keep my little guy under control. I am ready to come see you and I just want to be with you sooooo baaaaaad." she realized I was probably beyond hope at this point and asked me: "what do you want to do when you see me?" I told her "i just feel I need to be close to you. I want to feel you near me and I want to hold you and know you are mine. I promise not to push you beyond your limits and the last thing I want is to mess us up. I just need to see you.

Sally realized that I was now toast. I was no longer the man she had found but instead I was a person who was committed to her pleasure and who wanted nothing more than to make her happy. Her friend donna had cursed or blessed her with this lover. Now, she simply had to figure out what to do with him.

It wasn't too long until I arrived at sally's house. Though it was still daylight I couldn't resist wanting to wear my pink dress and I walked quickly to her front door. She let me in, immediately hugged me, and planted an exquisite kiss on my freshly coated lips. I just about melted. Then she asked whether I had had an orgasm yet. I told her I had not but was worried that I might. That was one reason I came to visit. She said I had made a good decision. She said she would really like to give me my next orgasm and she really thought I was a wonderful guy for holding back.

I looked her in the eyes, held her hand gently, and told her that she was worth the delay and that if I couldn't sacrifice for somebody as wonderful as she was, I didn't deserve her. I could see her eyes fill with tears of joy and she hugged me again. We went to the couch and sat down for a few minutes. The morning fire was blazing in the stove and we were toasty and relaxed.

She said, "i have a confession to make on behalf of donna." I said "confession? What did donna do?" sally started at the beginning and told me the story of the little darlings.

Once mothers had eradicated their tom-boys, the misbehavior of their boys became more apparent. The mother of a bully and mothers of two other boys who acted up in school got together and started a new club, called the little darlings club. It was organized like the tea party club and mothers dressed up with their sons and went to a little darlings party at a members' house. Teenage tea party girls sometimes volunteered to help with the party and teach the feminine skills topics. The girls were very accepting as they taught the boys how to be feminine, and the boys took quickly to the positive attention from girls. The curriculum started with the curtsy and went on to table setting, flower arranging, makeup, dressing, sewing, and other useful skills. Parties were once a week and a typical cure of boyishness took the better part of a year. Mild addiction to the clothing and situation set in after a few weeks and by the end of the season, the boys mostly regretted they had no more parties. Sometimes the boys would continue to dress up when bored and even get together and dress as play. It was self-limiting because the boys quickly outgrew their dress and had to quit. They never outgrew their attraction to the girls who accepted them, and they were truly lifelong little darlings.

Orientation to little darlings started with a dress fitting at the store. The mother's perfume would be used to scent the petticoat and the boy would become pretty pliable after begging several times to have his face buried in the petticoat. Mother's perfume paired with the pleasure of the petticoat made the boy much more attentive to his mother. It was not overtly sexual, just obedience and respect. Generally, the boys would have to wear the dress several days before the first party so they could get comfortable with the dress, shoes, and purse. Every time before they put on the dress or took it off, they had to bury their face in the petticoat and smell the wonderful scent. Older boys needed body briefers to be added to the outfit because they would get quite excited, but little darlings were not really supposed to be sexually mature. A few mothers ignored that, however, and some mature boys went through the program.

The first mature boy who went through the program was an older brother of a troublesome young boy. He made fun of his younger brother and his dress one time too often and his mother determined he needed a taste of the experience himself. The mother had a bit of a wicked streak so she determined he would need a dress with buttons so he would always need help getting it on and off. She also, fortunately, ordered him a body briefer which he wore with some regularity after that, dress or no. She convinced him with the promise of a video game vs being grounded for a month, to go get the fitting. He was required to walk in, explain that he had been insensitive to his little darling brother, and that he wanted to be fitted for a pretty pink dress with buttons in back. As directed, he said he really wanted to experience the joys of dressing too. The lady at the dress store praised him for being so wise, and promised he wouldn't regret it. She followed the protocol to the letter, but she didn't have his mother's perfume so used perfume from one of the tea party teenage girls, who trained the younger ones. He came back home with the dress, submerged himself for a while in the petticoat, put on the dress, and then asked his mother to button him up. She called in his little brother to do the honors, but only after he asked nicely and promised to to do the same for his little brother.

When they were both dressed, she presented them with their video game, and a selection of girlish games to start with. The first was a barbie game and the two had to get good at that one before going on to the others. He protested it wasn't fair, but his mother said that he would get some boy games when he completed his first feminine skills training in a couple of weeks. In the meantime they could play their game any time they dressed up. They both had to master each game and show their mother they had finished before they could go onto the next. They were in their dresses most every day trying to finish their games. Of course, while wearing their frilly outfits, they also had to be girlish at meals and other times in the day. As a reward for finishing the barbie game, their mother got each of them a very feminine nightgown so they could enjoy it every night.

Every week he accompanied his younger brother to the party and learned his latest feminine skill. Finally, one week they had to sew a simple frilly apron as their project. Sandy, the teen, started him first, and all the other little darlings had to watch and pay attention. It was then, with her close to him, that he realized her perfume was the exquisite scent on his petticoat. She had realized that earlier but decided to keep it secret, so he felt he was taking the initiative. She played with him in subtle but irresistible ways. When she taught him how to sew a ruffle, she stood behind him with her breasts gently touching his back and her head just beside his. She could feel him soaking in the wonderful scent and relaxing into a dreamy state. With his attention focused she was able to teach him almost instantly so he finished his apron in record time. He called her over to look at it and she was full of praise. She had him stand up and ceremoniously tied it on him, turned him around, and kissed him sensually on the lips. Then she had him sit down again to clean up his table while she whispered in his ear and bathed him in her scent again.

Since he was so good at doing the apron, sandy enlisted him to help teach the others. He couldn't begin to resist. Then, as everyone was leaving, she kept him back and kissed him again with the most soft and sensual kiss she could. She told him she would like him to visit once in a while in his pretty dress. Totally besotted with her, he said he would try not to visit her too often and be a pest.

They went home and showed off their aprons to the approval and praise of their mother. She kissed each of them on the cheek and said that she heard the older brother had volunteered to teach. She said that setting a good example was important, and he had learned his lesson. She handed each of the boys a pink package wrapped with lots of bows and lace. They each had to unwrap it carefully and slowly, showing proper respect for the frills and decorations. They had trouble containing themselves, but did comply and unwrapped the packages carefully. Inside were the video games she had promised them. The older boy got two, however. The first was one was a car race and crash game he had been asking for a lot.

But he also got another that was called "always a bridesmaid" and the goal was to get through the wedding preparations and catch the bouquet. His mother said that he would need some tutoring on that game and it was a two-player game for him and his new friend, sandy, when he visited. He called sandy and arranged to visit the next day. He said he had a new game and she said she was very excited.

When he got up in the morning he bathed and made sure he had shaved off all his body hair. Nobody had told him to do that, he just felt like he wanted to. When his mom saw his progress, she handed him a puff and body powder. After a couple of puffs, she handed it to him and said he might as well learn how to apply it. He did and his sweet smooth body felt very nice. He felt strangely wonderful as he put on his dress. Then, of course, he had to ask is brother to button him up. After the last button, his brother said he wasn't going to dress up today but if he wanted to get out of his dress, he might be willing to unbutton it. Little brother's grin revealed he was pleased he irked his brother so well.

It was a quick trip to sandy's house with the game in hand. She served him some iced tea and they retired to the family room to play the game. She had him sit on the end of a bench facing the screen and she sat immediately behind him. Again, he was submerged in her scent and proximity and his heart raced. He had to excuse himself a couple of times to make room in his body briefer. He was glad he had the habit of wearing it. She held her controller in front of him and he held his nearby. Her continuous hug was extremely distracting and he was continuously embarrassed that he couldn't do the simplest of things. Sandy was one bridesmaid, he was another, and there were four more played by the computer to keep things interesting. In the first game, his reactions were trashed and at a critical moment he stained his pink dress at the rehearsal dinner. He had to spend an hour of play getting fitted for a replacement dress. Sandy, being the helpful person she was, played along and offered him very personal and sensual suggestions all the way. Of course, the replacement wasn't pink, so he was the only bridesmaid in a powder blue dress. He noted with amazement that the computer so effectively showed the wedding party's expressions and all those in the church. He was simultaneously awash in embarrassment and floating in sensual pleasure. At the end of the game, he was so scared of messing up he could barely move when the bouquet was thrown. One of the computerized bridesmaids caught the bouquet.

Sandy set her controller down in his lap and took her hands to gently massage and stimulate his little breasts. Using a wonderful vocal pout, she lamented that he probably wouldn't want to play with her any more. With her head on his shoulder and her scent washing over him, all he could say is that he was no quitter and if she wanted to play, he was game. She realized that he was going to be wonderful. There was nothing to compare with asserting your masculinity as not being a quitter just so you can try again to be a bridesmaid. It shouldn't be a surprise that every day that week he spent his morning getting perfectly primped and every afternoon finding new and creative ways of being humiliated. Each day he again asserted his powerful masculinity to request that he get another chance at being the girliest of the girly.

They continued over a year playing the game. He could not be more besotted with her and he now had five body briefers since each day he dribbled for hours in a freshly washed one. Then, one day, he caught the bouquet. The next day, he came over in the afternoon, with a little more spring in his step. He knew this was his day as the bride and had to experience all the planning, fittings, showers, registries, and other details. As usual, the groom played no part in this game and he really got into it. The groom was only a basic character with no development, since this game was simply an opportunity to bathe oneself in femininity. As he was done primping and about to march down the aisle, sandy paused the game. He was concerned. Why pause the game?

She put down her controller in his rather excited lap and picked up a little box. She handed it to him, he opened it, and there was a beautiful engagement ring. She asked, "will you marry me? For real?" "yes, yes, a thousand times yes" he said. She made a couple of mysterious selection clicks in the game and took it off pause. He started down the aisle and saw a wonderful bride ahead of him. It was sandy. He was glad this was a game because his legs would not hold him up. They did their vows, were pronounced married, and they each opened each other's veils. When their lips met on the screen sandy gently touched him down below and he exploded with an orgasm both loud and long. She knew then that he would keep his promise to marry her. His little brother threw repeated hissy fits until he let him be the flower girl. They lived happily ever after.

The little darlings method became very popular because once the boy had worn the dress several times and had been to party or two, he was likely to stop by his closet and bury his face in the petticoat several times a day. Continuous desire and gentle reminders quickly improved his behavior. He was also likely to put on the dress and play like a girl for hours at a time. It was very addictive and while young boys eventually grew out of the addiction, they never forgot the good behavior.

Older boys who had an orgasm while dressed in the outfit found out why they were not supposed to do that. Their desire for dressing multiplied and they started wanting pierced ears and other feminine changes. They started wearing makeup and perfume and watching girlish videos. The legend is that one boy broke the rules and had an orgasm in his outfit. From then on, the petticoat and dress gave him serious butterflies which he could only relieve by dressing up. Before he realized what he had done he convinced four of his friends to do the same. Even then, it took a while for people to realize. The five boys played together and dressed up a lot. They arranged sleepovers and did each others' hair and nails. Soon they were like five of the sweetest teenage girls you could imagine. Little darlings barely began to describe them. When they all got pierced ears and coordinated sun dresses and started going to the mall, it was clear that the whole thing had backfired.

The little darlings organization was quietly dissolved and the younger survivors were gradually weaned from wearing their finery. The older boys who were now more girl than anything ended up in arranged girl/boy relationships with the tea party teen girls who really dug them a lot. When they grew up, the tea party girls had double-bride weddings and lived happily ever after continuing their tea parties and other frippery for years. The boys were very happy supporting their wives, and the girls appreciated the boys forever. It was a match made in heaven.

It felt like I had just listened to a campfire ghost story. I wasn't sure what to believe and what not to, but I had never been more turned on in my whole life. I shivered a bit from fright and hugged myself trying to keep under control. The whole situation was disturbing in its own right, but I had to know more.

This was a lot to absorb all at once. "so, why do you and donna have dresses? And what does it mean for me?", I asked. Sally started "on tea party day I put on my dress and pay special attention to any mothers and daughters who come into the bookstore in their outfits. It makes the girls feel really special when others are wearing the outfits too. Donna similarly wears her dress on every tea party day and without fail some mother and daughter will come in to get something."

"now, for you", sally continued, "i have much less explanation. I don't think donna should have done what she did but here you sit, wearing the dress and telling me how you swoon when you smell my perfume on your petticoat. My nephew was one of the little darlings girls and I know what the signs are. You are getting rather hooked. You haven't had an orgasm yet so the changes are temporary but there is a real risk you might have an orgasm, voluntary or not, and be in for a heap of change.

"what would the change be like?", I asked, "and might I not like it?" sally replied that she was sure I would like it a lot but the change would mean that I would no longer want to be just a man, and instead would want to be a girlfriend. "you would likely be bonded to me and would live the rest of your life in a total crush on me. You would want to do your hair and makeup to please me, cook meals for me, and take care of all my needs. You wouldn't even question whether it made sense, it would just be what you want. And I would have to reciprocate or you would be unhappy."

"so, I guess unlike the little darlings I could have informed consent if I wanted to proceed. Or, I could quit if I don't. How's this for my answer. How about we retire to the bedroom and make love? If what you have told me is true, I want nothing less than to have a glorious long-awaited orgasm wearing my dress and making love to the most wonderful woman in the world."

She said, "you realize that you will be in a beauty parlor once a week and a nail salon too. You will spend money on hose, perfume, makeup, and costume jewelry and you will want to fill your closet with dresses. You will not be a sorta girl, you will be a feminine outcast, someone who wants to dress to the nines and feel girlish all the time. If you haven't noticed, most women differ from men only in that their blue jeans are shapelier and their tee shirts have a couple of lumps in them. You will spend all your days in lingerie, dresses, and sexy shoes, and feel wonderful in them.

Further you will want to make love to me all the time and seek all sorts of ways to please me." you will always be a bit confused because your equipment will work perfectly as a man's equipment should. But you will feel the results as a woman would. Unlike most men, you already realize that saving orgasms for sometime special is worth it, so you are ahead in that part of the game. When I ride you to multiple orgasms and then you finally have your orgasm, you will feel warmth radiate from halfway down below your navel, where your uterus should be, to fill your body with pleasure. Your nipples will resonate with a pleasure buzz that will make your lingerie feel extra nice for days. You will assume that I got similar pleasure and be very proud of your accomplishment. Your willy will be amazed that he was part of such a thing. Your willy will be confused, as willies frequently are, but will report for duty next time in spite of that confusion.

Wearing body briefers or body briefers will be a regular part of life because you will want to keep your willy under control at all times. In fact, I suspect you will release him through the opening when it is time to please me and then you will methodically put him back in his confines until the next time. I promise you I will make sure you have a body rocking orgasm at least once a week and most times twice or more. We may get really horny and go more than once a day now and again. If you can't do once a day or more, then we will simply pleasure our feminine sides, and we will feel wonderful and happy. I want us both to be warm and happy and fulfilled every day of our lives.

I could see that she had thought about the little darlings organization a bit more than I would expect and she was ready to become the female part of the little darlings pair. In fact, I think she was getting positively hot about the idea. I lifted my skirt and petticoats and made more space for my willy, which was, by this time, well beyond ready. I told her that the terms sounded exquisite and that I wanted nothing less than to be addicted to the pleasures of this arrangement for the rest of my life.

Then she said, "now I know what you are. You are my girlfriend, but with your equipment, I have a girlfriend with benefits." "that sounds perfect to me", I said. "a girlfriend with benefits, I said. You know, that was what *i* was looking for, and now that is what I am becoming. And, I really want to be one."

"can I please marry you and be your girlfriend with benefits? Can I wait for you to come home from your bookstore and kiss me? Can I make you a dinner that will make you happy and then make love to you until you are ready to sleep? Can I go shopping with you and then pleasure you all ways you or I can think of? Will you help me dress to be the pinnacle of your desire? And, will you promise that in return I get just enough orgasms to fully appreciate my blessing?"

"oh my" she said. "now I know why the teaparty girls liked their wives. Yes!!! You can be my wife!! And I want you now!!!

Then I came back to my senses. "ahh," I said, "now, sally, if you were a guy, and you were facing the decision of whether you wanted to make love to this girl, would you? How would you want a guy to behave? I am shaking my booty at you and you need to choose how you want to respond. When you respond you will either have pleasure beyond all reason or you may lose me forever. What do you do?

She said "this isn't fair!" I said "oh, it is fair. I am offering to be the most feminine wife you could imagine while you are promising to marry me. I think I deserve to know what I am getting into. And, you deserve to understand what you are getting into.. And, whatever comes of this is permanent and I get to live with it, and you get to live with it too. Now you know what a decent guy gets to go through when faced with this question. We both know well enough that if we make love we are going to be stuck with each other."

I paused as my little speech sunk in. I could see sally thinking very hard. I figured it was now time to up the ante so I took my lipstick and applied it slowly, gently, and very sensually to my lips. I moved slowly and sensually, and made sure she was in my feminine grasp. When I finished, our eyes met each other and I watched her squirm a bit as she waited for a soft sensual kiss. Oh, I really do like feeling of soft delicate lips.

  

  

  

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