I start with the nylons. My body naked and clean shaved, I sit on the edge of the bed.
That is how I start to get dress. After I have taken the hose from the package and rubbed it against my cock. Careful not to get my pre-cum on them.
Tonight, it is white stockings, with an anchor pattern on the calves.
The nylons were a Christmas present. My whole outfit tonight was a gift from my man, Thomas. We started our romance on Halloween. There were many entanglements since and the honeymoon carries on. I remember that first night, we must have shared four or five orgasms before we even touched the Sushi I had prepared.
The outfit will be a gift that I give back to Thomas.
Dipping my right foot into the hose, I watched the red toenails disappear into white. Pulling the stockings up my right leg, my cock rubs against my elbow. Perhaps I should have masturbated to ease some of the excitement, but Thomas loves to devour my first orgasms and the more the merrier. With the thicker elastic pressing against my thighs I push non-sexual thoughts into my thoughts.
There is a meal fit for my prince waiting in the kitchen. I have a roast in the oven; asparagus in a pan to be steamed, next to the hollandaise sauce; the salad is on the table; and the chocolate mousse is in the frig. The limes are sliced for our holiday gin & tonics. I wish I had a g&t right now just to edge my nerves. Tonight is our second month anniversary of that first night together as man and woman.
I had sucked him off the week before Halloween, but I felt I really didn't become a woman in earnest until Thomas filled my ass with his sweet little cock. Remembering that night is not going to help my cock fit into my g-string. I guess I will save my panties and skirt for last.
The hose slide easily up my legs. Being of Scandinavian decent they are nearly hairless to begin with, but after shaving them, my gams are silky smooth. With both hose on, I glide my hands up and down my legs to straighten out any twists or wrinkles that may exist.
I slipped into my shoes. Thomas called them my cum fuck me shoes. Telling me the were the emphasis of cummin' and fucking. I am not sure where he fold them, they may have come from a vintage clothing store. The heels were about an inch and a half. The tops had a red fuzzy trip and the back had a thin strap, to 'hold them in place when you wrap your ankles around me,' Thomas said when he gave them to me.
I wanted to feel sexy and prance around the room, so I kept the shoes on.
I was going to work on my make-up, but first I squirted some lubricant on my finger and greased up my rectum. Walking around the room I my anal track felt squishy and I was ready to be fucked. Dinner was on the way, but I was on my way to being a whore in the bedroom
My make-up needs a little finishing. I brush some more mascara on my lashes and tweak my skin toner. I brushed a bit more blue eyeshadow on. I have saved the lipstick for last. It is bright red. I am extra careful, not just because I am so fastidious, but because I know the excitement it brings out in Thomas. He calls it the 'first-impression jolt of adrenaline. The whorey color has its own nuance of desire for me. After giving him fellatio, the red that has rubbed off glows on his thighs, balls and cock like embers.
I felt the blue eye-shadow highlighted my blue eyes and the black mascara gave me the essence of exotic. But it was my deep red lips that simmered in wanton ardor. Looking in the mirror I radiate like the fire to come.
I spritz on some perfume that I know will stoke the fire; one on my collar bone, one on my thighs (careful to miss my testicles -- you only have to learn that lesson once) and lastly I reach behind my back to spritz the cleft of my hips.
I was my hands and take my padded bra off the bureau. I hook the front clasp and slip my arms through the arm straps. I take the blue satin tank top from my bed and slip it over my head.
There is a nylon cap on the bureau that I pull over my blond hair. I pulled my the cap in place, it was tight and presses my hair to my head. I took the wig off the styrofoam head and pulled it over the nylon cap. It was an expensive blond wig and was the same coloring of my own hair. It was the finishing accouterment for my face.
"Hello," I said to my reflection in the mirror with my woman's voice. Once I had the wig on my voice naturally filled with feminine subtlety.
Turning to the bed all that remained was my panties and the shorty skirt. It was so short that it would be reserved for wearing on nights we stayed in. Even with the skirt worn low on my hips it just barely covered my package. I smiled to myself thinking about the view Thomas would have when I bent over to pull the roast out of the oven. What happened after that just might get in the way of dinner.
I slipped out of my shoes and grabbed the g-strong. I pulled them over my hose, up my thighs. I pull up the g-string with the firecracker pattern past my thigh-high stockings. Pushing my cock between my thighs, I pull the panties over my penis. Just in time.
Because I heard the front door open.
"Hello..." Thomas calls. "I'm back, there must have been thirty people at the liquor store."
His voice is next to the closed door of my room. We sleep in separate rooms, or I should say we start in separate rooms. I started our relation as a renter. I am a college student in a small college of the Adirondacks where I am a culinary student. I acutally have two rooms and we have one. My room is where most of my belongings are and I have accessed to the 'storage' room. It might sound peculiar, it is kind of hard to explain it for me. That storage room has mostly the belongings of Thomas' wife's.
The last two months I have been Thomas' wife, in actions and in dress. The wife died in a car crash several years ago, how long I am not sure. We don't talk about it much.
Thomas clears his throat on the other side of the door.
"Do you need help in there," he asks and I heard his hand on the locked doorknob.
"No," say a little more sharply than I will like, mostly due to my anxiety.
Being a cross-dresser is not easy for me. I am too much of a perfectionist. I want things to be just right and for him to see me in my panties took away one of the weapons in my sexual arsenal.
So far we had kept sex out of my room. It was just about the only room in the house that my hips had not satisfied his wanton urges. I had asked for that and so far he had kept his promise.
To help the panties hold down my potential erection I pull on my red mini-skirt. The skirt is made of lycra and clings tightly to him hips. The works as a girdle shaping my curves and it helps stabilizes my cock from making itself know. I have a nine inch cock that seems to make Thomas salivate on sight, but it was a pain to hide until it was time to come out and play.
That time for tonight was around the corner. I was ready, but I took a quick look in the mirror. I was ready. Hell I was ready when I woke up, but now I had the look
I walked into the room and though only candles flickered on the table, Thomas' eyes light up.
"Hello," I purred, holding my pose for him. The only sound was him inhaling through his nose. He still found me desirable. He didn't have to tell me that, his eyes shouted it. (And often his tongue explored it!)