Nelle free porn video

It was in the weeks before Christmas, on a fairly cold evening, when I realized that Nelle and I might have a future. We were driving back to the city for some holiday shopping after work, and as we drove over the bridge, with the city lights gleaming in the background, I reached across the seat and slipped my hand into her lap between the folds of her coat. Her thighs were warm and soft, below the swishy fabric of her dress, and familiar too, since we had taken the train out together to pick up my car, and for the whole trip, we sat close together, arm in arm, with my hand right there, in her lap. So, speeding over the river, I said simply, "feels great," thinking about how much more satisfying an evening this was so far, compared to my usual evenings at home, or worse, with my insane girlfriend. Nelle was good company, alright, and the attraction we shared was intense. Since we worked together, we each had to work hard to repress our feelings during the day, so the night brought freedom, and freedom, like her lap, felt great. Nelle took my opening, and moved the conversation forward. "You mean the dress? It's soft, smooth..." she asked "Yeah, and you too." I said "Can you imagine what it feels like to wear it?" "Well, I think it's different for you and me." I replied as calmly as I could. On the inside, though, I was a little bit shocked, since I had known for a long time that I really did want to know what it felt like to wear a dress, and while I might have hinted at this desire to Nelle, I had never told her. As the lump in my throat grew larger and the pit in my stomach grew deeper, she said - "Don't you want to find out?" I said yes, and our plans for shopping were set aside, and we sped on to her apartment. Nelle was a big girl, but not what you'd call fat; voluptuous maybe, but not fat. She was nearly my height, with pale skin and dark brown hair which complemented her rosy cheeks, and her brown eyes were not the deep soulful type that they call "cow-eyes," but sparkly, giving off clues to the witty mind behind them. We'd hit it off immediately when she started working. Her position was officially "office manager," but really, she did more than just make sure that the fax machine had paper and that the cleaning service was paid. Bright and hardworking, she was more than happy to become involved with the technical aspects of our work, and she liked me. Actually, she seemed to like me a lot. Naturally, we found excuses to work together. Although we'd have an occasional lunch together, most of our intimacy at the office consisted in periodic trips out to the fire escape or into the stairwell for a "breather." Our office had a non-smoking policy, and smokers would take a break during the workday for a cig, so, as non-smokers, we felt that we too were entitled to a short break approximately every hour. We spent these breaks making out and feeling each other up with the passion that comes through secrecy, and as these events became more regular, so did our routine. Nelle seemed to enjoy undressing me, but only part way. She would unbutton a few buttons on my shirt, and then pull it down over my shoulders, to my elbows, which had the effect of limiting my arm movement and exposing my chest. It was through this treatment that I came to realize that indeed, a man's nipples are an erogenous zone. Her touch did drive me nuts - but I digress. I have always studied the clothing worn by women around, maybe I tend to fetishize it a little, but let's just say that I find it interesting. That night, Nelle was wearing a dark jewel toned blue two piece dress, in a kind of crinkly rayon polyester, with a wide elasticized waistband, and a band of matching blue embroidery across the chest. The top was a long sleeved pullover, with a single button at the back of the neck. It was fairly typical of the kind of outfit Nelle would wear, which tended towards an overall unity of color and design, and also tended to be in softer, more flowing fabrics. In fact, I knew from observation that this particular outfit had a matching pair of pants, which one might wear instead of the skirt, and that she had a similar 3-piece set in a kind of beige or mauve tone. So when we made it back to her apartment, after a good half hour of making out and grooving on the soft fabric of her dress, we found ourselves on the bed, me on my back, she astraddle, taking the hem of her skirt and rubbing it back and forth across my neck, as she rocked from side to side over my concrete hard cock. As we pulsed together in rhythm, ascending to a more spiritual plane, she asked, in a way that told me that she knew - "You enjoy being dominated by a woman?" After the earlier remark about the dress might feel, this had the effect of setting off small explosions in the back of my neck, and I couldn't reply right away. It was absolutely true. I not only enjoyed being dominated by a woman, but at that moment, more than anything, I wanted to be dominated by this woman. So I said "Yes, and you enjoy dominating a man." Her first response was a smile. Then she told me that she thought about this all the time, that she could spend hours on top of me, playing with me, dressing me, controlling me, and that she had always wanted a man who could just let it happen. For my part, I couldn't help but agree. We enjoyed the moment together, and after a couple of pronounced and joyful orgasms, she told me to go and get myself cleaned up in a rather authoritative way. I went to the bathroom, and cleaned myself thoroughly, and when I returned, naked, she held out a pair of pink satin panties and a matching bra and said: "Put these on and sit down on the bed. I'll be back in just a minute." I eagerly complied, pulling on the panties, but struggling with the bra, since although I had imagined what it might be like to wear one, I had never had the opportunity to put one on. I was still struggling with it as she returned, wearing a terry bathrobe. Without a word, she moved behind me, and fastened the bra. "Are you ready?" She asked. I nodded yes. She looked me up and down, and her eyes came to rest on my dick, which was starting to get hard. "Hmm. Better do something about that, it will spoil the fit," she said, and she moved behind me and began to stroke me through the satiny fabric of the bra and panties. It didn't take long before I had a raging hard-on. She expertly brought me off into a handful of tissues, which she had conveniently put into her robe pocket, in anticipation of such a situation. Having sated my sex drive for the moment, she tucked my flaccid penis back between my legs, and pulled the panties up. Her dress was on the chair, and she brought over the two pieces. First, I put on the top, and then I pulled up the skirt, tucking in the top. Nelle pulled the skirt up further, over my belly button, and made some more adjustments. Stepping away, she said, "You look good." I felt good. I felt really good. Wearing the dress was as pleasurable as I had imagined. It surrounded me with softness and swishy-ness and followed the movement of my body. I walked back and forth, at Nelle's urging to enjoy the feeling. "You like it?" she asked. "Yes." I said. "You should feel what it's like with shaved legs and pantyhose!" "Uhhhm, I'm not ready for that yet." "OK. Take off the skirt." "What?" "Take it off. You don't get to wear it again until you shave your legs." There was no arguing, so I took off the skirt. As I did, Nelle went to her closet and brought out the pants that went with the outfit. I put them on. They felt nice, but they didn't quite bring the same thrill as the skirt. I felt somehow more covered up, less exposed. "Those look pretty good on you, you have such a cute little butt." I felt embarrassed and laughed. It was true what she meant to say - that I didn't have a big butt or a belly, so the pants fit kind of loosely, like they might fit a slender woman, without big hips, a belly, or a big butt. This was good. I felt permanently light-headed. We hung out a while more, caught Letterman, and then it was time for me to leave. "Do you want to wear it home?" she asked. I nodded, scarcely able keep from breaking out into a big smile. "OK. Under two conditions." She said seriously. "What are they?" "One: You wear the panties to work tomorrow. I'm going to check up on you, so I'll know." "OK." "Two: You buy a dozen pairs of panties so that you can wear a pair every day, if I ask." This was a little harder, but I was hooked, and we both knew it. I agreed, and left wearing the silky pantsuit. Since it was late and no one was out, I had a very discreet and pleasurable ride home. The next day, I wore the panties to the office under my clothes, and she wore an outfit, which consisted of a black knit jumpsuit with stirrup pants, and a batik print wrap skirt. My eyes nearly popped out of my head, as I imagined liberating her from the wrap skirt. On our first trip out to the fire escape, Nelle unbuttoned and unzipped my pants to inspect. She smiled as she touched the front of the smooth silky panties, and looking me directly in the eye, said - "how do they feel?" My answer was an involuntary shudder. They felt great. "Did you sleep in them?" I nodded. Yes, I had. Then she leaned close and whispered in my ear "too bad you can't wear the bra to work too, pumpkin." After a day of minor discomfort interspersed with intense excitement, we left the office to go to her apartment, about a 15-minute walk away. On the way we stopped at a store known for its selection of bras, panties, lingerie, and sleepwear; and under her careful supervision, I purchased the 12 pairs of panties. I was not allowed cotton, and more than one eyebrow was raised at the selection of dainty, lacy, and silky intimates. We left, and I carried the telltale pink and white shopping bag. When we entered her apartment, she sent me immediately to the bed. So off I went, and I started to strip off my clothes. But Nelle had other ideas. She stopped me from stripping, saying "Wait a minute! I decide when you go clothed and unclothed. Keep those things on until I let you take them off!" So I sat on the bed and waited. When she returned in a few moments, she was carrying a bag, and still wearing her coat. "Let's go to your place. Come on. Don't forget your little panties." I blushed as I picked up the bag, put on my coat, and headed out the door. My apartment was about a short train ride from hers, and we made the trip silently. My head filled with fantastic scenarios. I was just dying to know what was in the bag, but dared not ask. I wanted to let Nelle surprise me. Finally, we made it to my apartment. Nelle had never visited, and I gave her the tour, which lasted about 10 seconds, since I lived in a one-room studio with a small kitchen and a bathroom. While not the most fastidious person, the mess was pretty much under control, so I felt fairly comfortable showing her the sights. Nelle, on the other hand, went straight to the dresser, and went to the top drawer, where she knew she would find my underwear. She emptied the entire drawer of socks and underwear out onto the floor, and opened her bag. Out of it, she produced several bras and several pairs of pantyhose. "These are my old bras and some pantyhose to go with your new panties, sweetie. Now put them into your new underwear drawer." I just about died on the spot. Upping the stakes at every opportunity, my new girlfriend had just taken over my underwear drawer. I could either pick up all of my sweat socks and boxer shorts, which might have the effect of spoiling everything, or I could just put all of my new panties into the drawer, with Nelle's old bras and pantyhose. I chose to go along with the plan, trusting her, and placed my new panties one by one into the drawer. As I did, Nelle scooped up my male underwear and put it into a plastic bag, which she then put into her bag. She looked me directly in the eye as I closed the panty drawer, and excused herself to the bathroom with a naughty smile. She took her bag in with her, which I took to be a sign that certain preparations involving birth control might be afoot. When she exited a moment later, she had ditched the batik print wrap, and wore only the black knit cat suit. It hugged every curve of her body in a most delicious way, and I was completely enraptured by her power. "Touch gently." she said, and we began a lovemaking session, which lasted well into the tiny hours of the morning. She called a cab at 3, saying she needed to go home to get ready for work. The next morning, I awoke to discover that when Nelle excused herself to the bathroom that night, she pillaged my hamper and took my dirty socks and underwear as well as my clean ones. In addition, the socks I had worn the day before had been picked up as well. I had nothing but what was in my panty drawer. As I showered, shaved, and ate breakfast, I thought about my wardrobe dilemma. The panties were easy - I was in them and committed. But the pantyhose would be a problem. How could I escape detection? They would show at my ankles, and people could notice. I picked the thickest, most opaque black pair and put them on. Unfortunately, my toenail caught the fabric, and I put a huge run in all the way up, thus foiling any attempt at deception on my part. A visible run would be a sure indicator that I was wearing pantyhose, so I selected the next darkest and thickest pair, and rolled them on slowly and deliberately to avoid a run. Success, but they bagged in the crotch, and I had to tug them up tight. By the time I finished dressing I felt quite snug and warm in my pants. Fortunately, the weather was still cold, but if this thing lasted until spring, there was sure to be trouble. That day, at the office, Nelle and I took our customary fire escape break. While she didn't need to check my tights -those she could see plainly enough - she did check on my panties. I was wearing white ones, much to her satisfaction. "Tights and panties keeping you nice and toasty warm, there?" " Yeah. Kind of a pain to use the can, too." "I guess you have to go in the stall and sit like a woman, don't you." "Well, I go into the stalls, but I can just pull the waistband down easily enough." "Hmm. We'll have to fix that." She seemed a little disturbed at the news. "Why does it matter to you?" "Well, you know, I think you should sit every time you use the toilet, like a real woman, and I just might like to control that aspect of your life." "What do you have in mind?" "Oh, you'll find out soon enough. For now, it's enough for me to know that my honey is all toasty warm in those tights and panties." **** After work, we returned to Nelle's and ordered in Chinese. While we waited for the delivery, she had me remove my pants and shirt, and gave me a silky camisole to wear with my tights and panties. I felt terribly exposed, and Nelle only made it worse by constantly running her hand over my tights-clad legs and butt. I nearly begged her for something to cover up with, but held off, knowing that this would certainly lead to something possibly more exciting, and possibly worse. I knew that part of the scene we were playing was that there would be no reward for instant surrender. That was no fun for either of us. It was better to resist, to let things take their time to play out, and give Nelle a chance to improvise. When the food delivery came, Nelle said: "Follow me to the door!" Although I knew that we would be giving the deliveryman a good story, I tiptoed up and sort of stood behind Nelle as she opened the door, and paid for the food. She turned and set the bag down on the floor next to the door, and began to deliver some serious attention to my tights-encased legs and panty-clad bottom. The food was cold before we finally sat down to eat. And so it was. I ditched my old girlfriend, and started seriously with Nelle. We continued in the same vein for several weeks. Each day, there was the ritual inspection on the fire escape, and each night, we'd return to Nelle's for fun and games, usually involving one new garment or another. Once it was a filmy white sheer blouse, which I wore with no bra. Another night, it was a very large pair of brown, wide-wale corduroy pants, which Nelle pulled halfway up my chest. We experimented with nail polish and make-up, and I learned how to use Nelle's curling iron. Finally, one night, after a particularly vigorous session, I decided to stay, rather than going back home. This proved to be a bad move. It turns out (by coincidence or plan, I'll never know which for sure) that my pants had ripped, and were not wearable. In addition, I realized that if I wore yesterday's shirt again, not only would I look bad, I would kind of smell all day too. Of course, Nelle had a solution for my troubles, which not only involved the usual underwear and pantyhose, but this time also included a medieval looking one- piece body-shaping device. After putting on the panties and pantyhose, like usual, I stepped into this garment. Nelle pulled it up over the pantyhose, and I slipped my arms under the straps. It felt as tight as it looked, and wearing it, I felt truly under Nelle's control. I would never be able to forget that I was wearing it. As she pulled up the side zipper, she whispered, "It's a body shaper, dear. You'll need it to fit into the pants." Nelle had a pair of black pants that matched my jacket. She also had a blue oxford shirt that nearly fit me. Unfortunately, the pants were cut for her body, not mine, and were tight in the waist. In fact, I had to pull them up to my belly button, where I was laced tightest and really suck in to fasten the waist. They had no pockets at all, which kind of freaked me, and a zipper, which seemed to begin about halfway between my crotch and my belly button, which really freaked me. They felt tight in the ass and in the crotch, which looked pretty smooth, just a straight seam disappearing to a point at the tops of my thighs. And the shirt posed a problem too. It buttoned "the wrong way" and I could barely do the buttons up myself. It was also a bit tight in the collar, which was slightly rounded. It had no pocket, and fit a little loose around the chest. The shoulders were a little narrow, and the sleeves were also a little short. I put my wallet in my jacket pocket and left with Nelle, knowing that I wouldn't be taking off my jacket today. I just hoped that nobody would notice my girly pants and shirt. Once we were at work, and had gone out for our fire escape break, I realized with dismay that I was truly in a deep situation. As Nelle stood behind me, her hands caressing the tops of my thighs and my crotch, which was quite flat thanks to the underwear, I realized that in order to use the bathroom, I would have to sit down each time, and undo the crotch of the body shaper. Furthermore, I would risk exposing my pantyhose clad legs under the walls of the stall. A foolish fear, since no one ever looked. At least I didn't look. Nelle seemed to catch on to my discomfort. She asked: "Thinking about your first trip to the men's room, pumpkin?" I nodded. "I told you," she continued, "that I might just like to control that part of your life. You like it, don't you? That I can make you sit down to go to the bathroom." She continued rubbing my flat crotch as she spoke softly into my ear, and it was getting to be too much. I was totally aroused inside, but the panties, pantyhose, body shaper, and pants hid any semblance of a hard-on. In fact, for all my excitement, I could barely tell that my body was actually designed to penetrate another body. I felt more like a vessel for someone else's pleasure. The feeling was too much, and I came right there in my panties. Nelle could sense it, of course, and she whispered in my ear: "Enjoy that sweet, secret wetness between your legs, darling. I guarantee there is no more feminine feeling." End of break. Back to work. After about half an hour, I left for the men's room to clean up, and take a leak. I entered a stall, and, exhaling with relief, lowered my trousers. I tried to unhook the crotch of the body shaper, but wasn't able. Nelle had sewn it shut. I carefully and quietly stepped out of the trousers, hung them on a peg, and covered them with my jacket. I untied my tie, and struggled to unbutton Nelle's shirt. After an eternity, I was able to lower the body shaper and pantyhose, and able to clean out my moist panties. Almost out of spite, I peed standing up. What a mess. I realized that I could remedy this situation by putting on the pantyhose over the body shaper. That way, the next time I could simply lower my trousers and extract my penis through the leg opening and let loose. So I took off my pantyhose as well, put on the body shaper, put the pantyhose back on, put on my shirt, spent a while figuring out how to button it up, put on the pants, tied my tie, and put on the jacket. Total elapsed time in the bathroom: 31 minutes. Shit. Well, fortunately, the day was not so busy for me, and Nelle was able to cover for me while I was out, and I drew no suspicion. Still, I was pretty freaked out. We went out for lunch - I didn't have much appetite, all trussed up in my underwear, but Nelle insisted that I get a burger and fries, and a thick shake. "Are you trying to fatten me up?" I asked. Not all of you, she said mysteriously, and laughed. We returned to Nelle's that night after work, and after dropping our briefcases, went straight to the bedroom for some serious late afternoon delight, which consisted mostly of me moving my tongue with flickering abandon as she rocked back and forth, my face between her tights. I was permitted to take off the shirt and pants, but remained confined in the tights and body shaper. Naturally, I came again, deep inside. We decided to go out for dinner, since it would take too much time to cook, and besides, the temptation to fuck again would be too great. Nelle felt that going out could be particularly fun if I attempted to pass as her girlfriend, so all of our experimenting over the past several weeks was put to the test. I went to the bathroom, showered, and shaved my face as close as I could, while Nelle got herself ready and picked out my outfit for the evening. She wore a long black skirt with a blue sweater over a white tee. I put on the usual panties, black tights, and bra, which Nelle stuffed with some amazingly realistic feeling forms. She told me she had created my "breasts" using silicon gel from the bags that people stick in the freezer and then place in coolers to keep the temperatures cool inside. They were soft and bouncy, like the real thing, and Nelle had molded them so that a rather large "nipple" was prominent in front. Nelle then had me put on a tight panty-girdle with a waist cincher over the tights - I accepted this since I wanted to try to pass for female. Next I put on a dark teal silk jumpsuit, which I had seen Nelle wear. It had a broad cummerbund like waist, and button details at the shoulder, and a mock turtleneck top. It was one thing to see Nelle wear this jumpsuit, and quite another to wear it myself. On the one hand, it looked extremely comfortable to wear, and it did feel soft, but on the other, it looked kind of sexy on Nelle, and it did on me too, I guess. I became aware of how it fit over my new breasts, and how the outline of my nipples showed, a little. And the pants - with no pockets or zipper, they fit closely to my reshaped body. I couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious and on display. I put on a pair of plain black pumps, low heels thank goodness that Nelle just happened to have in my size. We "did" my hair with the curling iron, and put on a little make-up - covered my beard and outlined my eyes. I accessorized with a pair of gold clip-on earrings and a bracelet, and we were out the door. We went to a Chinese place a few blocks away that neither of us had tried, and enjoyed a delicious meal. Don't ask me what we ordered, how long it took, or anything else like that. All I remember is that nobody looked twice at us, and that Nelle had lifted her stockinged foot and placed it firmly into my crotch under the table for the entire meal. It was a complete rush. We returned home, and as a precaution, I was stripped completely before the sex. Nelle didn't want to ruin any more of her foundation garments. Part 2 As winter passed, our relationship stayed warm. I became a much more fastidious and androgynous dresser at work. More fastidious, since I wished to spare myself the embarrassment of being found out as a crossdresser, but more androgynous too, since the more feminine I appeared to be, the less surprising it would be to others if I were actually caught. Nelle frequently asked me to "borrow" some of her less overtly femimine outfits - slacks and blouses, and I wore them camouflaged under sweaters and blazers. The body shapers became a more permanent part of my wardrobe. I now owned several myself. Nelle kept up an interest in the shape of my body. She kept my waist cinched in, but insisted that I eat rich, fatty, and sweet foods. The result was that my waist size was staying constant, but the rest of me was getting fatter. Nelle seemed quite pleased with my "progress," and her fondest caresses were reserved for my newly fat ass, legs, and tummy. On the other hand my performance at work was suffering. I was frequently distracted, and often turned on by my situation. I counted the minutes between arriving in the morning and our fire escape break; and then between the fire escape and lunch, and finally between lunch and the end of the day, when I could return home to play. I spent a long time in the bathroom, taking care of myself. My usual carefree demeanor turned colder and more guarded, as I wished to conceal the true nature of my personal life from my co-workers. They all thought (correctly) I was dating Nelle, but there is no way that they could know that, for instance on Valentines Day, I bought her flowers and chocolates and a nice card. She said that they were nice, but that the best Valentines gift would be me! She gave me pink silk tap pants and a matching camisole, and tied me to the bed for a good ass reaming. Afterwards, still tied to the bed, she fed me all of the chocolates 1 by 1. I didn't want to eat them all, but Nelle definitely wanted to force me to eat them. It's hard to say who got off more on this exchange of power - Nelle or me. And Nelle was doing better at work. Her energy and efficiency were paying off, and she had time left over after completing the rather menial tasks that she was obliged to perform - keeping up to date on the service contracts, managing the coffee service, keeping the office supplies stocked, and so on. With this extra time, she started doing some research for Madison, our boss. He seemed very pleased with her work, and was said to be thinking about hiring a new office manager so that Nelle could focus exclusively on his projects. Nelle and I were hanging out one weekend in March after a heady round of sex, and we decided to go for a bite to eat. She excused herself and got cleaned up, put on a pair of jeans, a turtleneck, and a sweater. Meanwhile, obligingly after getting myself cleaned up, I put on my panties, shaper and tights, but when she handed me my work clothes, I balked, saying - hey, let's just take it easy and relax, nothing too fancy! My reluctance didn't make such a hit with Nelle. She said she liked her dates well dressed but I was really not willing to go to great lengths to get ready - shave, shower, go through all of the things I must go through to make a good appearance. It was too much of a stretch, I thought, but Nelle drew me out further. She said - "you wanted this, didn't you, didn't you?" - daring me, and I had to admit to myself that I really did, but I just wasn't ready. So I said "yes, but don't you want to take it easy, a little?" There was a moment of uncertainty, but then an idea struck her. "OK, We'll take it easy." And so Nelle went to the dresser - not the closet, and dug through the bottom drawer. She handed me a cotton turtleneck with a pink rose print. "Put this on." Then she pulled another garment out from the drawer - a pair of fuscia cotton jersey sweatpants. I put them on over my pantyhose and shaper. They were a little bit tight. She inspected, as usual, and pulled them up to the narrowest part of my body, over the belly button, and cinched tight the drawstring, tying it as tightly as possible, and doubled the knot. I became self- conscious about my new, casual appearance, as the sweats fit closely over my body, which was smoothed in front to a flat contour by the shaper, which was itself visible through the material of the turtleneck. "Well, that should do it - let's go." She said brightly. But I paused. I just couldn't go out in the outfit. It would have been just too embarrassing. "What's the matter?" asked Nelle. "I'll be embarrassed." I said. So Nelle paused a moment, and went back to the drawer. "We wouldn't want that to happen, sweetie. Here - put this on too." and so, she handed me the matching sweatshirt. I put it on, pulling it down over the sweatpants, but Nelle intervened. "You'll stretch it out if you wear it that way!" she said, adjusting it so that the waistband fit around my waist, above my hips, and the shirt sort of bloused out. I looked in the mirror, and saw that the chest was embroidered with a patch of flowers and butterflies. To complete the outfit, I put on a pair of white socks, and my new white running shoes. Nelle put on her fleece vest, grabbed her keys, and handed me a heavy wool full length blue double-breasted coat, saying, "I know you may want to keep a little covered up." I was grateful, since the prospect of going out in a fuchsia sweatsuit embroidered with flowers over a body shaper and a rose printed turtleneck was a little scary. She buttoned the coat all the way up and we left. As we went downstairs, I realized that I left my keys and wallet in her apartment. "Nelle, Wait, we have to go back, I left my keys and wallet," I said, but Nelle just smiled and told me "No pumpkin. I'm taking you out. Think of it as a kind of mother/daughter thing." At this point, I started to feel a little bit scared, since it was clear to me who was to be the "mother" and who was to be the "daughter." As we left the building, I realized that it was a beautiful 50- degree early spring day. The way I was dressed, in my sweats and heavy coat, I would surely start to pour out sweat the moment we began to walk. "Let's go to the 'k'," she said - referring to our favorite diner, where we had both eaten independent of one another for years before meeting. Strange how we never met there. It was a 15-block walk from her apartment, nothing unusual for us, but this time, the circumstance was a little different. "No, let's go around the corner, I'll be hot" I said, suggesting our second favorite place. "Stop whining and let's go," she said with authority, taking me by the hand and walking briskly down the street. I went along, because I knew that if I made a scene, I would pay for it with a riches of embarrassment. It became apparent that Nelle was not going to let loose of my hand, after a block or so, and I really did begin to get uncomfortably hot. I knew then that she had planned it this way, so that I would be compelled to take off my coat, so that I would be as public as can be in my embroidered fuchsia sweatsuit. My sense of love for her was never stronger, but my sense of defeat and submission had never been deeper. "Nelle..." I said. "Yes sweetie?" "I'd like to take off this heavy coat, please." "Do you think that's a good idea, honey? Won't you get cold?" "No, I'm too hot right now. I want to take it off. Please." "I don't think it's right, do you? Won't you catch cold? You wouldn't want to get sick, would you?" "Please can I take it off?" I said, my voice cracking a bit. "Stop. Whining." she said shortly, and without breaking stride, and we continued silently on for another block. The sweat was starting to form inside the turtleneck, and I felt the hot flush in my face. I was miserably uncomfortable, so after another block, I asked again. "Please may I take off the coat, Nelle?" "Don't you want to say: Please Mommy." I had known since the "mother daughter" remark that something like this would happen, but still, the words stuck in my throat. I just couldn't say it, but I knew that I would have to in order to remove the hot coat. So I gathered myself, and asked: "Please, mommy." "Please what dear?" "Please may I take off my coat, mommy." Nelle abruptly stopped and let go of my hand, and as I reached up to undo the buttons, she slapped my hand away. With a few quick motions, she unbuttoned the coat, and pulled it brusquely off of me, and held it folded over her left arm, and with another quick motion, she delivered a sharp slap to my butt, and grabbed my left hand, saying a little too loud for my taste, though with some humor: "I hope you're happy now, you whining, spoiled brat. You had better behave the rest of the day." As she strode on, I thought I could sense the anger in her voice, but at the same time, I felt relief from being released from the confines of the uncomfortable coat. On the other hand, I was struck breathless at the situation, for there I was in my fuchsia sweatsuit and rose print turtleneck, completely uncovered, with no pockets, no money, no keys, nowhere to go at all, except where Nelle wanted to take me. And it was evident too, that the outfit drew some notice. Its cut, the way it fit over my body shaper, together with its color and the flowers made it an unmistakably feminine outfit, but unfortunately, without make-up, I could not even dream of passing for a woman. Judging from the faces of people who passed by, we were quite a spectacle. And Nelle was getting seemingly more angry as we walked along. I thought that she might have felt burdened by the coat, so I said "Nelle, I can take the coat. I'll just carry it, like you are now." This caused yet another stop, and she bent close to me. "Mommy." She said quietly, but roughly, thrusting the word into my face. "Today, you will call me mommy. And I will decide whether you are able to carry your coat, and you will thank me by saying 'thank you mommy' when I do something nice for you, like take your coat. Do you understand?" Defeated, I made the required response: "Yes mommy." As we walked the rest of the way to the 'k', I tried to block out the stares of all the people, but there was nothing I could do to cover up my outfit, and no place to rest my one free hand. Yet the further we walked, and the more stares we drew, the less uncomfortable I started to feel, and Nelle too, seemed to relax a bit. We actually started talking again, like we had been doing before our discovery, about our dreams and impressions of the world, architecture and shop windows, when we arrived at the 'k'. As we walked in, my mood changed instantly. People at this place actually knew us, and recognized us as a couple. They were about to get a new and totally different impression. I was hoping that there would be a booth available to us, but unfortunately, there was none. In fact, the only seat available was a window seat on the avenue. Nelle seemed not to mind, but I was dreading it. She took my coat over to the coat rack while I sat down. The busboy raised his eyebrows as he poured our water, but Nelle gave him the hairy eyeball, and he somehow managed to suppress his laughter. When the waitress arrived with menus, Nelle accepted only one, which she kept to herself. I knew better than to ask, so I just let her do the ordering. She got herself a cheeseburger deluxe and a diet soda. For me she ordered a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and a chocolate milkshake. It was difficult to eat such sweet stuff, but I could see that Nelle was kind of enjoying my discomfort, so I tried to relax some more and finish. I also got a few french-fries from her plate. "Do you want desert, sweetie?" She asked. And I shook my head and said quietly, no. I knew better than to complain about the food she had just bought me. "Well, you have been very cooperative today on our little outing, and I think you should get some reward." She smiled. I dreaded this. "Wouldn't you like a nice piece of chocolate cake with some ice cream?" "No." "How about an ice cream sundae?" "NO. Please no." "Well. You certainly are the stubborn little miss today, aren't you. What do you want, anyway?" "I want to go home." "Are you tired?" "No, I just want to go." "But why, honey? It's such a lovely day for our little outing, and we've only just begun." "Truthfully, Nelle, I'm a little bit embarrassed." I said, since it seemed as though she would be ok with an honest answer. Her face hardened, and as she called for the check, she said under her breath - "You're going to regret saying that before the day is done, missy. You don't have any idea what embarrassment really is." When the check was paid, she got up to get my coat, and we walked out once again to face the world. As we left, I wondered what it would be like to go back to the "k." Would they remember my little fuchsia sweatsuit and my flowered turtleneck? Or would they remember my kiddie meal instead? yeesh. Instead of going back uptown, Nelle headed across town, me in tow as before. We were definitely not going home. I had an idea about our destination. We would be going shopping for sure, but where? "Bet you're wondering where we're going, swee-tee." said Nelle. "I have no idea." "Can't you guess?" "Are we going shopping?" "You are a smart girl. Yes. We are going to do a little shopping. I think it's time you had some of your own things to wear, besides your pretty under things." It was then that I realized that I would indeed regret not eating the sundae. I was sure that what she purchased for me would be no easier to wear out than my current sweatsuit outfit, and might be more appropriate to wear to - say - the office, than anything else I had put on before. Soon, we reached our destination, the Goodwill superstore. There were aisles and aisles of second hand clothing, and no doubt, some of it had my name on it. We went first to the blouse section. They were arranged by color, and Nelle went straight to the white ones. "I want you to find one in size 12, 14, or 16, preferably with the buttons in back. If you can't find one that buttons in back, find one that buttons at the shoulder. If you still can't find one, then pick one with lace on the collar or the front, or a big bow. If you find two, get them both. Then move on to the pinks, the off-whites, and then the prints. I should be back before you are done. Understand." I understood, and went grimly about my task. Before long, I found a white blouse that met Nelle's instructions, and another. They were both silky, and both buttoned in back. One had a turtleneck collar, the other, a round, peter pan like collar and pleats down the front. I moved on to the pinks, and immediately found another silky turtleneck-like blouse with a pleated front. I had no further "luck" with the pinks, although there was a front buttoning blouse with a big bow in a size 16. I left it on the rack and hoped that Nelle would interpret her instructions the same way that I did. In the off-whites, I found a high collared Victorian style cotton blouse, with a stand up collar and ruffles and lace at the neck. As I was going through the prints, Nelle returned, her armful of clothes concealed by my coat. As anxious as I was to see what she carried, she seemed even more anxious to see my selections, so I showed her the 4 I had picked out. As she nodded her approval to each, the hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach grew, since I knew that it meant that someday, I would be wearing each blouse. At last, she said "Those are great sweetie, but I think you also need to get a light blue one too. I'll look at the prints." As I riffled through the light blues, looking for a match, I began to dread how things were going to work out. With every passing day, I was sinking deeper into Nelle's clutches, and while a part of me definitely enjoyed it, I felt that there was definitely a line I did not want to cross. I wanted to keep my identity as private as I could, and enjoy the moments we spent together. This did not have to be shared with the public, although for Nelle's sake, I was willing to go along. But I could not see imposing on my friends and colleagues at work, my social friends, my family, or even my neighbors. I feared that at least some of this would have to happen, the way things were going. As it was, I felt lucky that only the "k" staff had seen me, and not someone else I knew. As I found a blue blouse that fit the bill, an oxford cloth with pin-tucks in front and an embroidered collar, Nelle added a couple of prints to the pile, an off-white sunflower and rose paisley silk that buttoned at the shoulder and had a bow, and a dark blue floral with a round collar and full sleeves. We made our way to the cashier, and Nelle noted that I would have one for every day of the week. I lay them on the counter and eagerly looked to see what Nelle had picked. They were pants - 3 pairs, a pair of overalls, and a long floral jumpsuit. Quite a wardrobe, and it only cost her $50.00. Nelle herself might have worn any of these items, but it was clear. They were for me. We left Goodwill with three large shopping bags, two for my new clothes and one for my coat, and we started uptown. A short while later we came upon a Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant. I had never been a fan of the Colonel's but Nelle took us in. Although it was only an hour or two after our "k" experience, I had to admit I was a little hungry. Nelle ordered 4 pieces and two biscuits, with a diet coke and a large chocolate shake. She had the diet coke. "You eat the rest." She said. "But Nelle," I began. "Mommy." she interjected "Mommy, I don't want to get big and fat," "Mother knows best, and if you know what's best for you, you'll eat," said Nelle. It took nearly an hour, but I finished. During the meal, Nelle talked about her dream of starting her own design practice. I had to admit that she had excellent taste, and she could definitely steer people to making decisions she wanted, and that she was gaining enough experience to do it. I told her that the thing she might lack was a marketing plan - how would people know to call on her, without a client base first? The discussion was quite interesting, and I would have forgotten that I was dressed in a silly fuchsia sweatsuit, but the tight waistband of the sweatpants was really cutting into me, and my body shaper was starting to feel like a medieval torture. I was glad that when we left, Nelle insisted on taking a taxi back to her place. I felt sick, but I accepted that fattening me up was part of the game. When we got home, I plopped down on the sofa, and began to untie the knot in the sweatpants that was being pressed into my stomach. I had never felt so full, not even after our 3 breakfast date of a weekend ago. But Nelle saw and yelled, "Stop that!" So I stopped. "But can't I just loosen it up a little? It's pressing into me and it's annoying!" I complained. "You know your complaints will do you no good here. But alright, you can loosen up your sweatpants. Just do me a favor and put this on instead." A simple white cotton belt, with two silver loops on one end. I put it on, and Nelle cinched it as tight as she could, which hurt some, but was not nearly so painful as the knot. "Now, can I trust you not to loosen it, or do I have to take some additional measures?" She asked. I said that I would not loosen it, and as my body dealt with the huge meal for the next few hours, I was true to my word, for I fell asleep from satiation. When I awoke several hours later, Nelle was sitting on the couch next to me, watching my face with a quizzical expression. "huh?!" I asked - and she broke out into a smile. I realized that it was now about 7 o'clock Sunday - dark outside, and the 60 minutes stopwatch was ticking on the TV. I had to go to the bathroom, so I got up, and went. While I was in there, Nelle said brightly - "Hey, why don't you clean up a bit, and we can try on your new stuff!" So I washed up. I would have anyway - all that food made had me feel pretty disgusting. I left wearing my panties, body shaper, and tights, and I cinched the waist belt tight again - better safe than sorry. It was in this state that I left the security and privacy of the bathroom and entered the bedroom. Nelle had spread the new purchases out on the bed, and was looking them over. I tried on the blouses one by one. The pinks, the whites, the print, the blue, and unfortunately, they all fit. The last blouse was the white one with the Peter Pan collar, and I put my arms in and pulled it up around my shoulders. Of course, I could reach only the top and bottom two buttons. The three in the middle had to be buttoned by Nelle. If I had to describe the way I felt at the moment, it would be that I was "owned" by Nelle, and under her control. She selected a pair of green and white wool hounds tooth slacks, and gave them to me. They were lined, had a wide waistband, and had a hidden zipper and two buttons in the back. I pulled them on, and Nelle arranged my blouse so that it would tuck in straight. Then she gave a tug to bring the pants snug against my crotch, and zipped and buttoned them. I had to admit that my body did appear quite feminine, though somewhat flat chested. The cut of the clothes and the pulled in waist, and the absence of a certain bulge in front did the trick. I felt kind of uncomfortable, though, like things were too tight and too loose all at once. "They fit great!" said Nelle. "Now try these" So I put on the next pair of pants, which were a grey cotton twill, and found that they fit in much the same way. They had some stretch to them, though, and for some reason, seemed to expose me more than the hounds tooth. I took them off with some relief. But before I could relax, Nelle handed me the overalls. They were pink and white gingham checked, and had a long back zipper. They were loose fitting, and high waisted, and had a bow which tied in back to define the figure. Naturally, they had no pockets. They were loose and drapey and came down to about mid- calf, like a dress, but they also reminded me of the confining feeling I had wearing the pants. "I want you to imagine that you are wearing this outfit to work" she whispered in my ear. I felt a chill. I just couldn't. It would be too much to explain to all of the others. My boss. My subordinates. No way. I did not want them to know that I liked this, or even thought about it. And yet, I had to admit I liked myself zipped and buttoned up in back. We ordered Chinese, and Nelle made me pay the delivery in my outfit, and we stayed in to watch TV. The whole time, I wore the pink, gingham checked overalls and the white blouse. Nelle made no effort to undress me, but frequently caressed me through the soft outfit. We went to bed with no sex. Next morning, as we got dressed, I was surprised to see Nelle put on my new white blouse and pink gingham overalls. "How do I look?" She asked. " I hope you don't mind that I'm borrowing your outfit." "You look cute, and I'm OK with it." I replied. I really didn't mind. After all, turnabout was fair play. I'd borrowed enough of her clothes. As we rode the train to work, I noticed that Nelle's outfit was drawing some attention. It was just a little more feminine than usual. Sitting next to her, it was hard not to admire the way her body was outlined and expressed through the soft fabric of the outfit. She put her hand in my lap, and I tried to hold it, but she seemed more interested in moving it to my inner thigh. After wearing the same outfit the previous night, with no sex, I felt alarmingly aroused. If it had not been for my layers of underwear and tights, I would have been pretty embarrassed most of the day. When we returned home, I was immediately asked to put on one of my new outfits. I chose the hounds tooth slacks and the blue blouse. Nelle then sat at the kitchen table while I prepared dinner. "Whew, what a day. I could barely keep up with everything." said Nelle. "You're not kidding, Miss Popularity." was my swift and spunky reply. At the office, it seemed that everyone wanted a piece of her, like she was a good luck charm, or a mascot, or something. I guessed that this was the effect of her - actually, "my" outfit - to draw attention. It's not that people at work ignored Nelle before, but she was more left alone to do her thing. On the other hand, work had been kind of slow for me. Madison said I seemed to lack the spark and drive that I used to have in figuring out peoples' problems. He said he was thinking about a new role for me at the office. Not a good sign. Part 3 It was a miserable day for me, but in some ways, a great day for Nelle. I had fumbled one of our largest accounts, thanks largely to my indifference. I had really been completely sexually absorbed by my adventures with Nelle, and not been paying attention to our clients. Madison and Nelle worked for days to put things back together. The whole scenario put a dent in our bottom line, and worse, in Madison's pride. He was furious, and the hammer fell on me. Madison insisted on taking over my projects himself, with assistance from Nelle. As for me, well, since Nelle would no longer be able to deal with the minutiae of the office herself, I could assist her. So I was demoted to assistant office manager, and of course, my salary was downgraded to that low level. On the other hand, Nelle got a promotion, a raise, and an assistant, me. Fortunately, Nelle agreed to let me move in with her. The reduced salary meant I would no longer be able to afford my lease. It was just as well. I practically did live there, anyway. We rode the train home awkwardly, silently. Summer was in the air, and it was crowded, and hot. As much as I wanted to congratulate Nelle and delight in her success, I felt acute shame that it came due to my failure. Nelle, who might have gloated - it was in her personality - seemed sympathetic. Of course, that changed when we got home. The second we entered the apartment, Nelle broke out in a huge grin, gave a little whoop! And grabbed me by the hands and pulled me into the bedroom - "Let's get dressed, baby, we're going to go out and celebrate!" Celebrate. Sure, I thought. I tried to put on a happy face, but my heart was not in the act. I was just plain miserable, and stood, like a tree, in her bedroom. But Nelle wasn't having it. "Listen. I want my party, and you're going to have to give it to me, girlfriend. Now take off your slacks and shirt, get into the bathroom, clean up, do your face and your hair. When you come back, I'll have picked out something for you to wear." I moved slowly towards the bathroom. How could I say anything to this? How could I respond? On the one hand, Nelle was totally out of bounds. She really had no right to push me around like this. But on the other, this whole situation was the result of the fact that I enjoyed submitting in this particular way to Nelle - to the point where I could no longer properly do my job. On the one hand, I was utterly humiliated by my fall from grace, which was pretty much public knowledge at the office. But on the other, I was proud of Nelle, and wanted to help her in any way. "Move it, girly! Stop daydreaming!" snapped Nelle. I moved. I shed my shirt and pants, and stood in my tights and body shaper. I tried to focus on the task at hand, and made my preparations. My focus paid off, for when I emerged from the bathroom, I was met by Nelle's warm smile and a hearty hug, during which Nelle rubbed my bottom through my girdle and tights. I looked over her shoulder onto the bed to see what outfit she had picked out for me. I saw something in a small navy blue and white hounds tooth check. "You are going to look so precious in your suit tonight, darling." she whispered in my ear, and led me to the bed. The suit was a two-piece, pants and top set. There was a matching pair of comma heeled blue pumps on the floor. The pants zipped up the back, and were made of rayon and acetate, and fully lined, like the top, which had short cap sleeves and a round collar and was embroidered with about a dozen daisies on the front. It was designed to fit over the pants at the waist, but stopped short of the hips, accentuating curves. It was the most feminine outfit I'd known Nelle to own, and I'd never seen it before. Then it clicked. She'd said "your suit." She must have bought it for me. I put in my breast forms, and pulled on the pants, then stepped into my blue pumps. I felt both fear and excitement as I put my arms through the top, and Nelle buttoned the 5 large buttons in back. "My new assistant is adorable!" she exclaimed. I looked at myself in the mirror and had to agree that adorable was the right word for the outfit. I felt sure that I would pass to 99% of the people we encountered, something which gave me the faintest bit of pleasure. We went to dinner at a nice Mediterranean place uptown, outside our usual neighborhood. Nelle sprung for a cab to spare us the walk. The meal was delicious, Nelle gregarious, and the wine was going to my head, but as the waiter brought our espresso and pastries, I fell to earth like a bucket of water. It was Madison. He had apparently been at the restaurant and was on his way to the door. But of course he saw us. Nelle is the kind of attractive person that everyone hopes they run into outside the office. My only hope was that he wouldn't recognize me. No such luck. They had surely set me up for this encounter. And I sat in absolute, petrified, silence as they had the following conversation. "Hi Nelle! You know, it's really nice of you to take your new assistant out for dinner." "Well, we just wanted to start things off right, you know, make sure that we're seeing eye to eye about things." "She sure looks cute tonight." "I think so too." Then, addressing me, she said "Why don't you stand up, dear, so Madison can see you in your adorable checked suit?" "Oh, you don't have to do that," he said, "We'll have plenty of opportunities to see you in your outfit, I'm sure." "Don't be too sure, Madison, I don't think we'll be wearing this to work anytime soon." said Nelle, to my relief. "Well, it would be just fine if you did. In fact, after grovelling in front of Harris and hanging on a thread just to keep the account thanks to this fuck-up," he said bringing his hand down onto my padded shoulder, "and the terms, unbelievable, we'll be lucky if we ever get out of the red on that project. I don't mind at all if its embarrassing to wear that stuff to work." "We all have limits." Said Nelle firmly. "Well, it's up to you, Nelle. You're responsible and smart. Dress her however you like." "Thanks, Mad." "Well, Goodnight." After Madison left. I was wrecked. I felt sick to my stomach and could hardly breathe. Nelle held my hand for a few minutes, and, when I finally calmed down a bit, led me out of the restaurant. I was trying my hardest not to cry, but like so many of my other efforts, this was a failure. The tears poured freely, and Nelle was there to wipe them. What a curious mixture of anger and gratitude I felt for her. It was love, but also treacherous, unknowable, and nearly disastrous. These thoughts steadied my mind, and after walking about 10 blocks, Nelle hailed us another cab home. My face was an utter mess. We cleaned up and went to bed. I slept like a rock. Who knows what I dreamed? I didn't want to overdo it for work the next day, so I asked, and was allowed, to dress in a much less eye-catching way than the night before. My pants even had pockets and I wore a shirt with buttons on the right. The day was slow and awful. I moved my personal stuff from my office to a desk out near the kitchen. I didn't even get a cubicle. Nelle got a large cubicle next to Madison's office, with a view of a window. Not the best real estate, but not bad either. Then Nelle showed me some of my new duties. Opening and sorting the mail. Keeping coffee on. Covering reception. Keeping track of the supplies in the supply closet. The filing system. As the office fuck-up, I didn't get much sympathy. It was as if I were contagious, or something, but my colleagues (make that former colleagues) basically ignored me. There was no fire escape play, and lunch was a slice of pizza. It was like I had a big "L" for "Loser" tattooed on my forehead. At home, no sex. The next day, Friday was no different, but after work, I went back to my studio for the last time, and finished packing the last of my stuff, and moved finally into Nelle's. I looked in my bathroom mirror for the last time, and saw the changes full on my face. My cheeks rounder, my face fuller, the edges softened. My hair much longer and framing my face. My eyes, faded and more washed out, as though my spirit had less energy, less power. But I watched my eyes, and thought of Nelle, and the love I had for her, and the love she held for me, and my eyes brightened, but my brow came together and tensed, and tears fell like stones, dropping endlessly to the lowest depths of the ocean. Part 4 "Don't unpack your stuff, just your clothes and some other essentials. The other stuff we'll have to put in storage for a while." said Nelle. "We're going to have to move." It was true. Her place was comfortable for 1, even 1 plus a long-term guest. But since I would no longer be living out of a suitcase (actually a knapsack), it would be too cramped. I sighed, and stacked the boxes in a corner. Then I took a suitcase holding clothes to the bedroom to unpack. As I began, Nelle entered, and looked at me, and said, "Make sure you unpack your girly stuff." Then she stopped, as though she were measuring something, thinking it through. After a moment, she said, "You look miserable, honey. Why don't you change into something a little more, you know, cuter, for me?" I sort of knew what she had in mind, but I had to ask, anyway. "You know, something softer, which shows your shape more. Or maybe something more colorful, more cheerful, more summery. I could pick it for you, if you want." "I don't know..." "Yes you do! You know you want me to dress you, and you know I want to do it, so just let me. I promise it will be worth your while." Nelle was right as usual, and it didn't take a genius to see it. I loved the way women dressed, and I loved the way Nelle dressed me. The thing I didn't love was the way my life was getting away from me. Already estranged from colleagues at work, and hundreds of miles from family, Nelle was the only thing left that resembled a support mechanism. College buddies? Nope - not since the New Years disaster of '88 (but that's another story involving collapsing bookshelves and lots of vomit.) Friends from childhood? All back home in a humble small town. Church? Not religious. Hobbies - well, I guess you could call this thing with Nelle a hobby. So I agreed to let Nelle pick out my outfit, but insisted that I would absolutely not wear the dreaded blue checked pantsuit. I followed Nelle into the bedroom, and watched her sort through her closet. Every so often she would stop, and look at a dress or top, and consider. She finally settled on a two-piece set - a batik printed vest with a matching pair of linen drawstring pants. I shook my head. "No way. I'll be made for sure if I wear that." "Not if you let me make you up, and you shave those nasty armpits!" said Nelle hopefully, but I wasn't buying. Nelle looked a bit hurt as she hesitantly went back to looking through the closet. She became more and more agitated as she looked for something suitable, but finding nothing, became more and more exasperated. Finally, she picked out a slightly shiny red blouse with a mock turtleneck that buttoned with three buttons at the back of the neck. "You can wear this with your grey slacks," she said curtly. I put the blouse on over my body shaper, and searched through my suitcase for the slacks. They had no pockets, zipped up the back, and fit close. I put them on, and noted how smooth they made me appear in front. Without a jacket, this outfit would display me more than even the blue checked pantsuit. I put on my makeup, light trouser socks, and my loafers, and presented myself for inspection. "You look good!" said Nelle cheerfully, and I blushed at the thought. Even if I did look sort of ungainly and flat chested for a woman, the nights of - well, let's call it what it was - training - with Nelle had paid off, and I could comport myself well enough to pass, as long as I didn't have to speak. "Let's go. We need to find you some more summer clothes, and a place to live!" Nelle handed me a purse for my stuff, and we left for a long adventure. Clothes shopping turned out to be less than a total success, since I resisted Nelle's efforts to buy me a dress, and I wouldn't go for anything sleeveless. But Nelle did make me buy another two pantsuits similar to the blue checked number, one bright pink and one pea green, each with some embroidery on the front. And I did buy some tee shirts that had a bit lace at the neck and arms, and a pair of loose fitting printed drawstring pants with a matching vest that I could wear over the tee shirts. I figured that if we were going to be going out on the weekends, I might as well be comfortable. We were more successful with real estate, though. We found a place in a new development, which was big enough for both of us - a two-bedroom apartment in a 4 story building that was near shopping and the commuter rail station in a close in suburb. Nelle had been scouting out a place for us for weeks, it turned out, and when I saw the one she picked, I had to admit that it was nearly perfect. The trouble was, in order to make a deposit, I'd have to sell my car, or something to raise the money. We returned late in the evening, after eating out and going for drinks, and I was grateful. The waistband of my slacks was cutting into my tummy, and the shiny blouse was both conspicuous - way too businessy for the weekend - and uncomfortable, since it was not possible to open the collar. I had to admit, though, that it had been a pretty good day despite the fact that my appearance had drawn a few odd looks from men and women alike. Or maybe I was just a little too self- conscious. Sunday came and went easily, since there wasn't any unpacking to do. It was a casual day, and I agreed to sell my car to make the deposit. Living out of a suitcase would be easy enough for a while, but it would be good to settle into someplace a little more permanently. Besides, Nelle and I shared enough clothes, a fact that was dr