The Wedding Anniversary free porn video

The Wedding Anniversary In all my years of being a cross-dresser I have dreamed of going on a holiday en femme. My wife has known about my desire to cross-dress for several years now, but has only ever tolerated my 'perversion' rather than embracing it. Since we started having children, the opportunities to dress became fewer and fewer, and my dream of holidaying as a woman seemed to be long gone. The events of our tenth wedding anniversary were, therefore, completely unexpected. I knew we were meant to be staying in a hotel in the New Forest, leaving the children with my parents, but what actually happened blew me away. Friday Leaving work early, I returned home to find that the car was already packed and ready to go. Apparently we were booked in at the hotel for dinner, and we had to drop the kids off first. On the way to the hotel, my wife talked up the weekend, saying how nice it would be to get away, just the two of us, how we hadn't done anything like this for years, and how I wasn't to worry about anything during the weekend as she had it all organized. I was happy to hear that because I had had a nightmare week at work and was absolutely shattered. When we arrived at the hotel, we were shown to our room. It was a big room dominated by a large, four-poster bed. The en-suite bathroom had a walk in shower big enough for two, and a Jacuzzi bath. We dumped our bags, I hadn't even had to pack mine as my wife had told me she had it all under control, and went downstairs to enjoy a late supper. After a couple of drinks in the bar, we got ready for bed and I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. Saturday My wife gently roused me at about 8.30am. "Wake up, sleepy head. Breakfast has just arrived. We've got a long day ahead so let's get started." After breakfast I went to get washed and dressed. When I came out of the bathroom I found that my wife had already sorted out some clothes for me, so I got dressed and we left the hotel. So far so normal, you might say. Well here's where the fun really started. We drove into the nearest town, parked up and started wandering down the high street until my wife stopped outside a beauty salon. "Right, this is our first appointment," she said and walked straight in. Walking into a beauty salon had always been something I wanted to do, but had only summoned up the courage once before, to get my legs waxed. There was a tingle of excitement as I walked in because I felt I had permission to be there since I was with my wife, I wouldn't be thought of as a weirdo. When my wife had spoken to the receptionist about our appointment, we were instructed to sit down, asked to fill out a brief health questionnaire and offered a coffee. I began to ask my wife why I had had to complete the questionnaire as well as her, assuming she was going for a treatment and I was going to wait for her, but just as I opened my mouth, a young lady called Gemma came through to the reception area. "Please follow me, Sir." Surprised, I got up, and as I did so my wife said, "See you later." Looking round I thought she had a strange kind of smile on her face. Gemma led me into a small room that contained a chair, a table with loads of lotions and potions on it, a shower and, dominating the room, a hospital-style bed. Gemma instructed me to strip off to my underpants and lie on my front on the bed. As I did so, she started asking me if I'd ever had a massage or a facial before. "So that's what's happening. I've never had a facial at all, and I have never had a professional massage." I replied. "Has your wife not told you what you're booked in for?" "No. It's a surprise for our wedding anniversary." "Really. Well, you're in for a treat. Now all you need to do is relax." Gemma then proceeded to give me a deep aromatherapy massage working from my shoulders and neck down to my lower back and up again. The mixture of the essential oils, the calming music and the massage were soporific and I started to relax completely. After a while Gemma asked me to roll over on to me back, which I did without thinking about it. She then started to massage my chest, arms and legs. "This time," I though to myself, "she must be using a different lotion because it smells different." After quite a short massage she said she would leave me for five minutes to relax, and she left the room. I just lay there in a world of my own, but gradually I was aware of a growing tingling sensation on my skin. This sensation got stronger, and as it did so it became less pleasant and more painful. I was just about to get up when Gemma returned. "Oh dear," she said. "What?" "It looks like I must have mixed up the lotions. Quick jump into the shower and wash yourself off." Doing as I was told, I took of my underpants and quickly turned on the shower. The relief was immediate as the hot water washed the burning lotion off my body. It was only when I emerged from the shower to towel myself off that I noticed what had happened. The lotion Gemma had been massaging me with had been a depilatory cream. My chest, arms and legs were almost entirely denuded of hair, hair that was now clogging up the plughole at the bottom of the shower. As I dried myself, more was coming off with the towel. While I had been doing this Gemma had left the room. When she returned I was sitting, wrapped in a bathrobe, waiting for her. "I'm terribly sorry for this awful mistake," she said. "I've just told your wife what's happened and she's gone to get you some new underwear, the underpants you've taken off are ruined now due to the hair removal cream. I'm sorry." "Don't worry about it," I replied. "However, the cream has only removed some of my hair so I'm left with odd looking patches all over the place. Is there anything you can do about it?" "Lay down on the bed again," Gemma said, "and I'll have a look." After a few moments she seemed to make a decision. "Unfortunately, the only solution I can think off is to remove the patches of hair so it can all grow back at the same rate. How does that sound?" "I suppose that sounds sensible. How are you going to do it?" "The easiest way will be waxing. Is that okay?" "I guess it will have to be," I said, trying to sound disappointed, but beginning to feel a little excited; I hadn't had waxed legs for years. Then a thought struck me. "While you've got the wax out, could you do my back as well, I know I've got lots of hair there and even though I can't see it, I know it looks grim." "If that's what you'd like sir, sure," Gemma replied, smiling sweetly. Lying back I prepared myself for the pain of waxing, and Gemma did a very thorough job ensuring that all my chest, arms and legs, including my toes, were hairless, prior to turning me over to sort my back out. "Right," she said when she had finished. "Now that's done shall we get on with the facial?" "Can you check you've got the right lotions first please?" "I have triple checked, sir. I wont make the same mistake again. Just lie back and enjoy yourself." So I did as I was told. I lay down on my back, and as Gemma massaged my forehead and applied a face pack I must have drifted into a light sleep because the next thing I felt was a light touch on my shoulder and Gemma saying softly. "Wake up. You're wife has just arrived with your new clothes." Not sure if I'd heard her properly, I slowly came to. Looking down on myself I noticed that Gemma had drawn the towel up over my torso. I also noticed a bump in the towel. "I must have been having a good dream," I thought to myself. Turning to Gemma I informed her that she could leave me to get dressed. "Oh don't worry about that sir, I've seen it all now. I'll just start tidying up while you get ready." This disturbed me slightly, but I thought nothing of it and sat up. As I did so the towel slipped off my torso revealing a pair of breasts. "What?!" I shouted, then turned towards Gemma. "What have you done?" "It's a surprise from your wife. She says it's something you've always wanted. Now look in the bag of clothes she just brought in for you." As I sat there in disbelief I opened the bag. In it was a pair of red women's slacks I had brought from a charity shop years ago, and white blouse I had brought from Peacocks, and a small present labelled 'Surprise Number Two'. With trembling fingers I opened the gift, and inside were a pair of gold lacy panties with a matching bra. "Let me help you with the bra," Gemma said, reaching out for it. Dumbly I extended my arms as she did the clasp up at the back. With a little adjustment it fitted perfectly, as did the panties when I put them on. I was just about to put the slacks on when Gemma stopped me. "Hold on a minute. If you're going to go out looking like that, let's finish the job off properly." "What do you mean," I replied, confused. "Never you mind about that. Just lie back down on the bed, and keep the bra and panties on." 'Finishing the job off properly' turned out to be a bikini line wax in line with the new panties I was wearing, waxed arm pits which was very painful, and slight adjustment to my eyebrows to make them more feminine. When she was finished I got up off the bed and put the slacks and blouse on. The final item in the bag was a pair of flip-flops. It was then that I realized that my old clothes were gone. Looking up to Gemma, I said, "This was all planned wasn't it? You knew all along what she intended didn't you? The whole 'mistake with the lotions bit' was on purpose wasn't it?" "Yes, yes and yes," she replied. "Now go on Aimee, your wife is waiting for you." That hit me like a train. She had actually called me by my chosen femme name. With that thought in my mind I left the room, with Gemma following behind grinning like the Cheshire cat. Walking into the reception area, the first thing I noticed was how many people were there. It seemed like all the staff had come to see me. The next thing I noticed was my wife grinning sheepishly at me. When I smiled weakly back at her she leapt up and came over to give me a huge hug. As she did so, she whispered in my ear, "The fun has only just started for you my dear." "Ladies, would you like to follow me," a voice said. It turned out to be one of Gemma's colleagues, Becky. She led us through to a small room next to the reception area and introduced us to Janice. "Right then. How about a manicure and pedicure for you two lovely ladies," Becky asked. "I'll just have the manicure," responded my wife, "but I'm sure Aimee would like both." Once again someone had used my femme name. I was stunned. It was a moment before I realized that Becky was waiting for a response. I nodded and sat down in front of her while my wife sat in front of Janice. My wife and I both had French manicures, and then she chose a varnish called 'Shocking Pink' for my toenails. Throughout the whole process the women chatted endlessly to me about what a lucky girl I was to have this lovely treat and all manner of things. I just sat in stunned silence, not sure whether to enjoy the moment or not. When the manicure and pedicure were over, my wife and I got up to leave. Once again the reception area was full of staff waving us off and wishing us good luck. It was only when the door had closed behind us that I realised I was now standing in the high street on full view to the public. My wife could obviously see the fear in my eyes as she pulled me towards her and said "Come on, I'm not finished with you yet." The next stop was a hairdresser's. As we entered the owner looked up at me. After an almost imperceptible quizzical look flashed across his face he said "Ah yes, please follow me, we have something special for you today." My wife and I followed him into the back room of the salon where I was instructed to sit down on a relatively standard chair, not what you might expect if you were going to get your hair done. But then I realised that there probably wasn't much that could be done with my short, manly hair. I had guessed right and the hairdresser placed a series of wigs on the table in front of me. With my wife he tried wig after wig on my head until both of them were satisfied they had found something they thought suited me. As they chatted about it I was confused, having no idea what I actually looked like. "Excuse me," I uttered faltingly, "do you have a mirror?" "Of course, madam, how rude of me," said the hairdresser as he handed me a mirror. The wig they had chosen was a bob that hung just below my jaw line framing my face. The colour was dark brown with blonde highlights. As I sat there gazing at my altered reflection I began to wonder, "Could this be my dream coming true?" At that moment the confusion and apprehension began to die away as I started to enjoy myself. With the wig fixed securely to my existing hair, I felt much less self- conscious walking along the high street, and holding my wife's hand I felt a smile begin to form on my face. My wife had decided that before any more excitement we should sit down for a coffee and a chat, so we found a small caf?. I, unusually, sat with my back to the room so no one could stare at me. When my wife returned with the drinks and sat down, the first thing she did was hold my manicured hands in hers, look me in the eye and say, "I love you. Are you enjoying yourself so far?" I admitted that after the initial shock and trepidation I was indeed beginning to enjoy myself. She then explained a bit about the weekend, about how she had been planning it for ages, about how she had packed my bag full of all my feminine clothing so I had nothing masculine to wear apart for the clothes I had arrived in last night, which she had now hidden. She asked if I liked the underwear. "Of course. It's beautiful." "Good, because there's suspenders back at the hotel. I didn't bring them to the salon because I didn't think stockings went with the slacks, and I thought you might be too self-conscious if I put you in a skirt or dress straight away. Anyhow, with your fashion sense, none of your feminine outer clothes are really that nice. You've got great taste in undies, but a lousy idea of what looks good on the outside. We'll have to do something about that." Any offence I might have taken with the criticism of my 'lousy' dress sense was swept aside by the compliment regarding my choice in lingerie, and the promise of my wife getting involved in my feminine clothing. When we had finished our drinks, it tentatively said, "Where to next?" "Well, my dear, we've got about an hour before lunch. In that time I want to sort you out with a couple of nice outfits for the rest of the weekend, then we'll stop and get something to eat. Any requests?" I guessed she was talking about lunch, so I just responded, "No, I'm all yours." "That you are, my girl. That you are," she said. Then we got up and left the caf?. We started the clothes shopping by looking round some of the charity shops because, as my wife said, you never know. In one we found a light, knee length, flowery summer dress. When my wife held it up to me I felt very self-conscious, but then realised that at a glance I probably did give off the impression of being female. At the first glance that is! My wife then suggested I try it on so I went into the unisex changing cubicle. Taking off the blouse and slacks revealed my lingerie clad hairless body, and once again I was struck with fear. It was only the words of my wife saying, "How are you getting on in there?" that kicked me into action again. Climbing into the dress was a fantastic feeling, but I couldn't reach the zip at the back. I cautiously opened the curtain to ask my wife for assistance. She zipped me up and then asked me to turn round. She was obviously pleased and decided I should have it. While I was changing back into the slacks and blouse, my wife passed a pair of sandals through the curtain. "Try these on. I've brought your heels but you haven't really got anything else to wear except your flip-flops." I tried on the brown leather sandals and they fitted perfectly, so much so that I decided to wear them there and then because they were much more comfortable than the flip-flops. In another shop we found a cardigan that went nicely with the dress, and a gorgeous navy blue satin skirt that ended above my knees. Feeling the soft fabric against my hairless legs was a real turn on and I had to force myself not to get an erection. I really was beginning to enjoy this. In the next shop we went into we managed to finish the second outfit with a figure-hugging sleeveless top that went perfectly with the skirt and a wrap that went with both. My wife also managed to pick out some jewellery that went well with both outfits. I was in no way ungrateful for the treats I was getting, particularly because my wife was taking a lead role in the proceedings, and because I knew they were nicer than I would have chosen, but I had brought feminine clothes from second hand shops before, usually ghastly, so the experience was not new to me. I longed for the opportunity to go into a proper clothes store and try on some feminine clothing. Just has I was thinking this, my wife took me by the hand and said, "Right. There's just a few more things we need, and I think the best place to get them is in here." Saying that she pulled me into a department store straight, as usual, into the make up department. As we started walking through the range of cosmetics available, one of the saleswomen came up to us and said, "Would either of you ladies like a make over today?" My wife nudged me forward saying, "Yes, Aimee would I'm sure." The saleswoman took my hand and led me over to her stall and sat me down. "Right. Let me have a look at you," she said, giving my face a good investigation during which I swear she realised I was really a man. "Okay. Let's start with the foundation." During the process she talked me through step-by-step, explaining what she was doing and why. First the foundation, then rouge, eye shadow, eye liner, mascara and finally lipstick. I had no clue what I looked like until she finished and passed me a mirror. I couldn't believe the face staring back at me was actually me. I had never looked as feminine before. Although the saleswoman tried to sell us some make up, my wife was not buying, saying we already had plenty. She did, however, let me buy some perfume, so I chose Eden, a scent I had always loved. Thanking the saleswoman, we moved into the rest of the store, straight for the lingerie section. I was a little confused. She had already complimented me on my choice of lingerie and had given me a new set, surely my wife wasn't going to buy me even more underwear! "Right. There's two things left. One for you, and one for us. We'll do the you thing first. You may have noticed that there's a swimming pool, fitness suite and sauna at the hotel. Well, I thought we could use them, only you've got nothing to wear, so we need swimming costume, shorts, top and maybe a sports bra. Let's have a look." As I carried the basket around, she chose a pair of Lycra shorts and a tight fitting, sleeveless top but she left the choice of swimming costume to me. In the end I chose a tankini with shorts and a supporting top, that way I didn't need the sports bra. I was about to suggest I should try on the items before we bought them, when my wife reminded me that we were still looking for something for 'us'. "To celebrate our anniversary, and the woman in you, I thought we should choose some matching nightwear." My eyes lit up at this. I loved wearing slinky nightclothes, particularly with my wife. Standing amongst the array of nightwear I was in heaven. It didn't take much persuasion by my wife for me to pick out a short, pink satin baby-doll nightdress with matching negligee; however, I was surprised that my wife decided to go with pyjamas from the same range but in navy blue. I quickly forgot about that, however, as I was introduced to something new, a female changing room. My wife and I both went into a large room that was empty and proceeded to try on our new things, or rather I did while my wife watched, helped and commented. As it turned out, the baby doll was slightly too small so my wife went out to get the next size up, leaving the curtain slightly open as I tried on the negligee. I was turning this way and that, admiring myself in the mirror when I heard a voice behind me. "Oh, sorry. I thought this room was empty." I turned round startled, clasping my arms in front of me. There stood an attractive young woman, looking at me. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. That really suits you. I'll leave you to it. Bye." The sense of relief when she went, closing the curtain behind her was overwhelming. I was thankful that I hadn't actually had to talk to her or my cover might have been blown. Soon my wife returned with the new nightdress. It fitted perfectly. We packed everything back in the basket, and I got dressed again. On the way to the checkout, my wife said, "One last thing," and picked up a couple of packets of stockings, one in black and another in a colour called 'chiffon', basically nude. With that it was off to the checkout, then out of the store. Turning to me, my wife said, "I think that's enough shopping for one day. Let's go and have some lunch." * After lunching in a small caf? in the town, we headed back to the car, and back to the hotel. On arriving, I opened the car door and got out. It was only then that I realised that I had left the hotel that morning looking like a man, and now I was returning, only a few hours later, looking like a woman. My wife could obviously see the fear in my eyes because she came over to me and gave me a hug. As she did so she whispered in my ear, "Don't worry, they are in on the act as well." She made to let go, but I held on to her and looked her in the eye. "Thank you, darling. This is amazing," I said, and gave her a kiss. As she responded it was intoxicating. The aroma of the perfume, the mingling of the lipstick we were both wearing, and the pressure of our breasts against each others through our clothes was like nothing I had ever experienced before. My wife pulled away saying, "Calm your passions, there'll be time for that later. Anyway, we don't want to be 'those' people do we?" As we carried the bags into the hotel, the receptionist smiled at us and said, "Good afternoon ladies. I hope you had a good morning." "We had a fantastic time, didn't we Aimee?" Even though I knew the receptionist knew I was really a man, I couldn't bring myself to speak to her. As my wife squeezed by hand, I let out a barely audible squeak. "Good," said the receptionist. "What are your plans for the afternoon, if you don't mind me asking." "Not at all," replied my wife. "We were planning to use your fitness suite if it's open." "Yes it is. So is the pool. Both are quite empty at the moment, but they tend to fill up later in the evening before dinner." Saying, and squeaking, our thanks, we took our key from the receptionist, and climbed the stairs to our room. Once inside, I dropped the bags, and collapsed in a heap on the sofa. "Has it all been a bit much for you my darling?" said my wife as she came over and knelt on the floor beside me. "I suppose it has really. A girl's dreams don't come true every day of the week do they? Are you enjoying yourself?" "Yes I am, thank you. It's just that it's all a bit unexpected. After all the years of you not participating, or at least only grudgingly, I never thought you'd do anything like this. Why are you doing it?" "Three reasons. Firstly because I love you and I realise that this is something you've always wanted. Secondly I know you've had a hard year at work, and I thought this might be a breath of fresh air for you. Thirdly, I miss being with you, and seeing as how it seems you don't want me to get inside your boxer shorts, I thought I might try getting inside your panties." As I sat there sipping the tea, my wife unpacked the suitcase that contains all my female clothes and is usually kept in the attic. While she knew it was up there, she didn't know that I regularly made additions to it from various sources. I sat there waiting for comments. She had obviously sorted through it before we left home, because it didn't contain all my feminine things, it seems she had only brought my most feminine lingerie and a couple of other items. As she transferred garments from the suitcase to the drawer she folded them carefully; my deep green satin teddy, my red thong with the ties at the back, the pink mesh thong that matched hers (we bought them the same day we brought matching red satin chemise nightdresses), the suspender belt she had bought to match the underwear I was now wearing. Then she stopped and looked directly at me. "How long have you had these?" she said holding up a baby blue basque with matching panties, then a pink satin and black lace bustier with a matching thong. "Hmm," I muttered, feeling like a naughty school child that has just been caught doing something wrong. "Only recently. They were comfort purchases," I said by way of justification. "Were they really," she replied, putting the garments in the drawer before adding the purchases of that morning. She also hung the dress up in the wardrobe and laid out our new nightwear on the bed. "Right. Finish your tea and let's get down to the gym. Here, put your stuff on," she said, chucking my new sports gear to me. When I had unbuttoned and removed my blouse and the slacks, I stood for a moment in my underwear watching my wife undress. When she was down to her bra and panties as well, I walked over to her, and just as she was about to unclip her bra, I grabbed her hands, spun her around, and pushed her back on to the bed. I then leapt astride her, pinned back her arms, leant forward and kissed her. As I did so, she somehow managed to unbalance me, and spin me over so our positions were reversed. I felt like I was in heaven, and that any observer would be seeing two scantily clad women cavorting on a bed. As these thoughts raced around inside my mind, my panties started to bulge. My wife felt the movement through her panties and said, "Right Aimee, let's get something straight. There is a time and a place for everything. Now is neither the time nor the place. You can't go down to the gym with that poking out of your swimsuit can you? Save yourself for later. I promise you it will be worth it." With that she got off me and carried on getting changed. The harsh response from my wife put an immediate stop to any 'unsightly' growth that was occurring, and I too got changed. Stepping out of my panties I reached for the black 'boy-leg' swim shorts. Squeezing myself into the tight garment, I had to be careful to tuck my member away so it couldn't be seen. Removing the bra freed my breasts. I feared they might fall off, but they had been glued on. "I hope she's got the adhesive remover", I thought to myself. I lowered the tankini top over my head, and arranged it so that it supporting my new breasts. After the shorts and vest, I put on a pair of my ankle socks, which my wife had kindly bought, and my trainers. "Ready." "No you're not. When you get in the pool you're going to mess up your hair do, and how are you going to dry yourself. You need to take a towel, bathrobe and one of these," she said, passing me a swim cap. I hadn't worn of these since my days of growing up in Germany when we had to wear them in the pool. When we arrived at the fitness suite it was empty. I started on the running machine while my wife began on the bike. To begin running with breasts was a nightmare. Not being used to their movement, I constantly had to adapt my running style. Once I had it worked out, and began to appreciate the supportive nature of both the tankini and the shorts, I began running freely, so much so that my wife called out to me. "Aimee." I was still getting used to her calling me by this name so I didn't respond immediately. "Aimee, slow down. Remember you're a lady. Pushing hell for leather and generating gallons of sweat doesn't suit you, remember 'Dogs sweat, men perspire, women glow.' I tell you what. Let's swap." After we had both been on runner, bike, rower and cross-trainer, we headed for the pool. We crammed into the small changing room together and stripped of to our costumes In a way I was slightly disappointed that I hadn't gone for something more feminine, but the supportive nature of the top, and the fact that the shorts were not so feminine that I couldn't wear them afterwards won me over. We decided that since I had a swimming cap, it would be easier to remove the wig. Cap in place, I opened the door and we slipped into the warm water. What a feeling! The water felt wonderful against my hairless legs, and the buoyancy of the breasts meant that their weight was partially supported by the water. This was a relief because after all that exercise, they were feeling a bit heavy. We had been swimming up and down for a little while, splashing each other, when someone else entered the poolroom. He was a bit taller than me and well built, with a clearly defined six-pack. He smiled at us and then started to remove his shorts and t-shirt. Underneath he was wearing a pair of speedos that did little to conceal how well endowed he was. As he slipped into the water, I swam over to my wife, holding her hand under the water. She just turned to me and smiled. The man swam over to us and introduced himself as James. Thankfully my wife did the talking again while I simpered over her shoulder. For the first time since we had left the beauty salon in the morning I felt really afraid of discovery. Somehow being in such close proximity to a good example of manhood made me feel much inferior. My wife told him that we were a couple of friends spending a girly weekend together to unwind. He said he was doing the same, but by himself and that he hoped he might see us again during the weekend. "Possibly," my wife replied. "Come on Aimee, let's go now. It's going to take a while to get ready for tonight after all." Following my wife out of the pool, I tried to keep my back to James at all times so he couldn't see any evidence of my manhood that might be showing through the shorts. Only once I had donned the bathrobe did I relax a little. Picking up our belongings, my wife and I left the poolroom saying goodbye to James. As I walked through the door and turned to close it I caught James' eye. He gave me a broad smile, and a wink. Turning I ran to catch my wife up, and when I did so I held on to her hand. "What's the problem Aimee?" "He just winked at me," I replied. "Who did?" "James." "Oh. So you're on first name terms are you?" "No. Well yes. Well so are you," I stammered back. "Don't worry, darling. He was just being a man. Surely you would have done the same if you were a man and met two hotties in a pool." I conceded the point, but then thought about what she had said. "I am a man," I whispered in her ear. "Not from where I'm standing," she said, grinning. When we returned to our room, my wife ran a hot, bubbly bath. As I stripped off I assumed we would both be getting into it, but no, the bath was for me; my wife was going to have a quick shower because she needed to get everything ready. As I was wallowing in the hot, sweetly scented water, my wife reminded me that I needed to give my face a shave again so the beard growth didn't get too much later on. * When I emerged from the bathroom sometime later wearing a bathrobe, my wife was already dressed. She was wearing the same leopard print mini- dress she had won on our first ever date, coupled with her knee-high black leather boots. Now, just as then, my mouth hit the floor. "Like what you see do you?" she said. "Just wait 'til your ready as well, we'll make a great pair. Now get yourself dry and put these on," she said, passing me the bra and panties I had taken off earlier. These were followed by the matching suspender and some brand new, sheer stockings. The feeling as I eased the stockings up my hairless legs and attached to the clips at the top was sensational. This is what I had always dreamed off. Once in my underwear, my wife passed me my new blue satin skirt. As I slid it up my legs, across the stockings and over the panties, I couldn't hold back a small moan of pleasure. Guiltily I looked towards my wife who just turned to me and smiled. Once I had slipped into my new, figure hugging top, my wife instructed to sit at the dressing table so she could sort out my make up, the swimming had obviously ruined the free make over I had had earlier during the day. Once done, she reattached the wig and handed me my heels. Standing up, I slowly turned round to look in the full-length mirror. I couldn't believe how convincing and sexy I looked. If I saw myself walking down the street I would have been impressed. A huge smile crept across my face. "Maybe dreams can come true after all," I muttered to myself. "What was that, darling?" My wife asked as she came and stood next to me. "Maybe dreams can come true." "Maybe they can." Passing me my wrap, she said, "Let's go. The taxi's due any moment. Oh, and you'll need this," and she passed me a handbag. "I've put everything in their you're going to need." I didn't have time to check as she hurried me downstairs. The same receptionist was still on duty and as we left, she wished us a pleasant evening. Just as we were about to walk out the door, my wife stopped as if she had forgotten something. Turning to the receptionist, she said, "I don't suppose you could take a photo of us before we go out could you?" "It would be my pleasure," she replied, so we stood in the reception area while she snapped away, taking about five different shots in total. "Thank you," my wife called out as we heard the taxi's horn. As we approached the cab, the driver got out and then did something for me that had never happened before, he opened the door for me. Sitting in the back, my wife squeezed my hand, leant over to me and whispered, "You look beautiful." "So do you, darling," I replied, and then opened my handbag to see what she had put inside. I found lipstick, mascara and tissues, then condoms and a tampax. My wife could obviously see the concern on my face because she said, "Well, you never know what you might need, and you are trying to be convincing." Understanding the logic of that, I said, "What about money?" "Don't worry," she replied, "I've got that covered." The restaurant she had chosen was a small bistro that served a variety of continental foods. I was famished, but heeded my wife's warnings not to pig-out as it was unladylike, and only to sip my wine because I didn't want to look like some chav tart out on the booze for the night. Throughout the meal we ate, drank, held hands and generally enjoyed each other's company, chatting about this and that as we might normally do. After my wife pad the bill we got up to leave. The first thing I noticed on leaving the restaurant was the cool evening air on my stocking-clad legs. The second thing was how much more difficult it is to walk in heels once you've had a little to drink. "I'm not ready to go home yet," my wife said, putting her arm through mine to steady me, or herself. "Let's try and find a club." "But there'll be loads of people there." "Hopefully. It'll be fun. And I want to dance. Maybe Aimee does too because I know Chris wouldn't." That shut me up, and I walked along the pavement with her, our heels clicking in unison. We found a small club that was having a brit-pop night which was perfect as we had met when brit pop was at it's height and the memories of our first dates came flooding back. We ordered a couple of Bacardi Breezers and found a table. The club was about half full, mostly with couples, and before long, my wife pulled me on to the dance floor. If walking, slightly drunk, in heels was difficult, dancing was worse. My wife suggested that I take off my shoes, but I was determined not to and eventually got the hang of it. Dancing around with my wife to the sounds of our early romance I forgot everything; work, stress, even the fact that I was dressed as woman which obviously meant I was completely comfortable with the situation. After a while we stopped dancing and sat down again. "Let's get another drink," my wife suggested. "Before we do that I need to go to the toilet," I replied. "Excellent, I'll come with you, just like girls do." "But you can't go in the gents." "Neither can you." And as she said that, I was brought back down to earth. I had forgotten about the situation. I was just having fun, and I was just about to have another new experience, going into a ladies public toilet dressed as a woman. The room was much nicer than any gents' toilet I had ever been in, with carpet on the floor, flowers and room freshener. After going to the loo we touched up our lipstick, and I redid my mascara. As I was doing so a couple of other girls came in. "Hi girls." They said as they entered. "Isn't this a great evening? Really reminds me of being young. You having fun?" "Yes," my wife replied. "Mmm," I replied as I tried to concentrate on the mascara, while one of the new girls came and stood next to me, doing up her make up as well. "There's some talent just arrived as well. I wonder if any of us will strike it lucky," she said. "Come on, Aimee, let's go an check it out," my wife said, grabbing my hand. "See you later," the girls in the toilet said. "Bye," we both said in chorus. When we got out into the club again, we made our way straight up to the bar to get another drink. We were just about to order when a voice said, "Hello ladies, what would you like?" Turning round in our seats we saw that it was James. "A Bacardi Breezer for me please James," my said. "What about you Aimee?" I couldn't believe she had done it. I was going to have to talk. Why couldn't she have just ordered for me? Why couldn't I just order the same? Why did I have to say, "A vodka and cranberry juice please James"? As I said it I watched his face closely for any clue that he might have twigged. All that happened was that he said, "That's an unusual combination. Where did you get that from?" "They used to serve at a club I went to in London," I said, surprising myself with my eagerness to respond. "I'll have the same then," said James. "Me too," chipped in my wife. Drinks ordered we thanked James and returned to our seats. There we discussed the events at the toilet and the bar. "I can't believe you made me talk to him," I said, scoldingly. "Well, you managed didn't you," replied my wife, without a hint of sympathy. "You obviously didn't put him off because he's heading over here now." "Do you mind if I join you two," James asked as he approached, "It's a bit odd going out to a club by yourself, but I didn't want to stay in the hotel bar all night." "Not all," replied my wife, "Please join us." James then started to ask us all about ourselves. We managed to maneuver him in to talking about himself instead because it seemed easier than making up a past for us that wasn't really true. After we had exhausted the small talk of his background, however, James returned to questioning us. To avoid his questions I said, "Do fancy a dance?" aiming the question at my wife. However, it was James who responded. "Sure, why not? I'm not really into dancing but tonight's a special night." As he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the dance floor, I looked in fear back at my wife. She had this funny look on her face, half smiling and half surprised. "Not half as surprised as I am," I thought, "Or as James will be if he finds out the truth." Thankfully the music was not slow and after a couple of tracks we headed back. A little while, after another drink, they started playing the slow songs. At this point I gave my wife a look of fear, dancing with James to 'Parklife' had been one thing, but 'The Universal' would be another. Picking up my fear, she said to James, "'Scuse us for a moment," grabbed my hand, pulled me to the dance floor and started dancing with me. "Now he's going to think were lesbians," I said. "Isn't that better than the other alternative?" my wife responded. "I guess so." Returning to the seat, however, we found that James hadn't been put off, and after a short moment he offered me a dance. "I'm actually getting tired and was about to suggest leaving," I replied. "Just one." My wife then chipped in, "I tell you what. You have one dance with me, then one with Aimee, then we'll all go back to the hotel in a cab and have a nightcap in the bar. How does that sound?" "Fine. Who's first, you or Aimee?" "Me," my wife said, and she looked at me, seemingly willing me to build up my confidence before the next song started. As I sat there thinking about everything that could go wrong in this slow dance I was about to have with another man, the potential embarrassment of being discovered and 'disrobed' in front of the entire club, I realised that my wife was now dancing with another man, and obviously enjoying it. I instantly recognised what a fool I'd been all these years not dancing with her when I had the chance. I felt cross with myself that another man was doing something for her that I was unwilling to do myself. All thoughts about that came to an end when the song finished and they started walking back towards me. James stayed near the edge of the dance floor and my wife continued towards me. "Now that's how a man should dance with a woman, not sit flirting with the younger women at the parties," she said sternly. I looked up at her pleadingly, "I know. I'm sorry." "Go on, you're keeping him waiting." I slowly got up and walked towards him. He smiled and held out his hand and gently pulled me towards him. It wasn't a close embrace, and there was no impropriety on his part but here was me, dressed as a woman, dancing with another man. The maelstrom of thoughts flying round inside my head meant that I didn't really concentrate on the dancing, and just let James lead me. When the song finished, James lent forward and said, "Thank you." On the return journey to the hotel, we all sat in the back seat of the cab with James in the middle. I couldn't help my satin skirt riding up my leg and revealing the tops of my stockings. As I pulled the skirt back down, I could feel James' and my wife's eyes watching my movements. James, ever the gentleman paid for the taxi fare and the drinks in the bar. As we reached the end of the drinks, we bid James goodnight and thanked him for a nice evening. "No, no, thank you ladies," he said reaching forward and giving us both a kiss on the cheek. "Hopefully I see you again tomorrow." "Goodnight," we chorused as we headed off. For the second time that day, I collapsed on the sofa on entering the room. I couldn't believe what had happened. Not just the fact that another man had just kissed me, but everything. "Aimee, come here." My wife's voice broke me out of my reverie. She has taken her boots off and was standing at the foot of the bed beckoning me with her finger. I was feeling hot. The adrenaline was pumping and I needed no second invitation. When I reached her she grabbed me, pulled me to her and started kissing me deeply. Once again the taste of the lipstick, the aroma of the perfume and the pressure of my feminised body being pressed against her feminine body was intoxicating. This time, there was going to be no false start. My wife lifted my top up over my head then pushed me backwards onto the bed. Hitching up her dress she climbed on top of me, straddling my waist. As she did so she pulled her dress over her head then bent down to kiss me again. As she did so our lingerie encased breasts met. There was a look in her eyes I hadn't seen for years. "I was right, Aimee is more fun than Chris," she said. I didn't know quite how to take that but I didn't care. I felt like I was in heaven and it just kept getting better and better. My wife rolled off me slightly, but only so she could reach further with her hand. As she carried on kissing me her hand began stroking my breasts, then moved down across my flat stomach towards the waistline of the skirt. When it reached the skirt, her hand rested on the growing bulge. The warmth and the pressure caused the bulge to grow even further. Still she moved her hand down until it reached my stocking- covered legs. After stroking my legs for a bit, she began to move her hand back up, all the while kissing me deeply. This time her hand started moving up under the skirt. As she reached my stocking tops she placed her hand underneath the straps, allowing her thumb to start peeking under the elastic at the end of my knickers. After stroking me there for some time while I played with her breasts and hair, she got up off the bed. Turning me over she undid the zip on my skirt and pulled it off. Turning me on to my back again she then slide my panties down my legs, allowing my bulging manhood to pop out. Standing at the end of the bed, she let her skirt slide to the floor and then removed her panties before climbing back on top of me. Holding my hands down on the bed, she lowered herself on to me and started gyrating her hips. Before long I shuddered and let forth a stream inside her. Knowing that she had not had an orgasm I looked up at her apologetically. A brief look of disappointment crossed her face before she said, "Don't worry, I'm not finished yet." After we lay there side by side for a moment, I got up to go to the bathroom and clean myself up a bit. When I returned, to my surprise, my wife was getting undressed out her underwear and had picked up her pyjamas. Following her lead I removed the rest of my underwear, and as my wife went into the bathroom, I slipped into my new baby doll nightdress, and between the sheets of the bed. Lying on my back with my eyes closed, I heard my wife come back into the room, and felt her get into bed. As she sidled over to me she said, "You know I said I wasn't finished yet?" "Mmmm," I replied. "Well I'm not," she said, and has she did so she grabbed my hand. Pulling it to her chest she slid it down the front of her pyjama top towards her pubic area. Thinking she wanted me to pleasure her with my fingers I moved onto my side, just as she started sliding my hand under the waist band of her pyjama shorts until it reached something I wasn't expecting to feel there, something hard and plastic. As my wife stopped guiding my hand I froze. Gradually I began to feel around. Every time I touched this hard plastic thing, my wife gave a little whimper. Knowing what it was, but feeling that seeing is believing, I removed my hand and pulled back the bed sheets. My wife was lying there with a smile on her face as I could see the tent that was being made in her shorts. Slipping her thumbs under the waistline of the shorts she slid them down her legs revealing a black, six-inch long dildo, the other end of which was being held inside her by straps. Reaching over to the bedside table she handed me a tube of lubricating cream. "You know what to do." Shaking, I opened the tube and squeezed some of the cream on to the top of the dildo. "Now make sure it's all well covered, I want this to be as smooth as possible for your first time." 'First time!' I thought. Dressing up and having all the fun we had had during the day was one thing. This was turning into something different. Was I going to resist? Could I resist? As I stroked the cream onto the dildo up and down, my wife shuddered slightly. After a while she said, "That's enough. Now on you knees." As I turned over and kneeled up on the bed, I could feel the short nightdress lifting over my bare behind, exposing it. I could feel the cool air in the room on my buttocks. I could feel on of my wife's hands gripping on to my waist and the other guiding the dildo towards it's target. I could the dildo pushing, probing at the edge of my anus before it was thrust inside. I let out a scream of pain. My wife let out a moan of ecstasy. She then started pumping. As she started pumping and my anus became used to being used in this way, pain subsided and the pleasure increased. As she kept on her rate increased until it was a frenzied assault on my rear. I thought I was going to faint or come again, but this time my wife beat me to it. With one long moan, she reached orgasm. As she withdrew I collapsed on to the bed. After a moment I felt her get out of bed and heard her go into the bathroom. A few moments later I felt her get back into bed and slide over to me. Putting her arm around me she said, "Good night Aimee my dear. Sleep well Princess." As she turned out the light, I fell asleep dreaming of princesses. Sunday As I came to consciousness I felt I was waking from a dream. It was only when I sat up in bed that I realised it wasn't. We were still in the hotel room, I was still wearing the pink baby-doll and by my wife's side of the bed I could see the strap-on dildo she had used on me the previous night. Of my wife there was no sight, but I could hear her in the bathroom. There was a knock at the door. "Room service. Breakfast in bed." "Hold on a moment," I said, forgetting to try to sound feminine. I put on the matching negligee and unlocked the door. The maid wheeled in our breakfast, left it near the table, then left, smiling at me as she went. By the time my wife came out of the bathroom, I had almost finished my breakfast and was reading the paper. Dressed only in a bathrobe she looked gorgeous. She came over and kissed me on the forehead then sat down opposite me. "Did you sleep well then Aimee?" "Yes. You can stop the Aimee thing now. It was fun yesterday but we need to get back to normal so we can go and pick up the kids." "Oh dear. Is the reality not what you anticipated? What put you off? Was it someone lavishing care and attention on you without you having to lift a finger? Was the opportunity to wear sensual clothing rather than the drab stuff you normally wear? Was it the nice meals someone else cooked for you? Or was it the fact that a man found you attractive? Was it the fact that I was dominant in bed last night?" I sat silently, knowing that all these things were things I had dreamed off, fantasized about. There's no way I could complain. "Anyway, we're not going back today. The kids don't have to be picked up 'til tomorrow. I've still got plans for you. I'm rather enjoying Aimee's company, I don't know if I want Chris back yet. Why don't you finish your breakfast like a good girl and go and spend some time in the gym or the pool." "By myself," I replied. "Yes, of course. You're a big girl, perfectly capable of looking after yourself." In a way I was grateful for the confidence she was showing in me and my ability to get by as a woman, but something about her tone made me feel uneasy. Where was the wife who could barely bring herself to be in the same room as me when I was wearing even a pair of knickers? When I got to the gym it was empty, and remembering what my wife had said the day before I had a gentle workout on the cross trainer and the rowing machine. What I really wanted was to relax in the hot tub beside the pool for a while. There was already another woman in the hot tub when I arrived, so I went into the pool for a bit. When she left I got into the hot tub, lay back and relaxed in the warm, bubbling water. I started thinking about what this weekend meant for our relationship, me and my wife that is. How would it change? Where would it go from here? I was distracted slightly from my thoughts by someone entering the poolroom. I didn't bother turning round to see who it was because I was nice and comfortable, I just closed my eyes and carried on thinking. The next thing I knew, someone else was getting in the hot tub with me. As I opened my eyes, his voice said, "Good morning, Aimee. Did you sleep well?" It was James. I froze, then quietly said, "Yes". "Oh, bit of a sore head?" I nodded slowly. "Where's your friend?" "Still upstairs." "Is she? I hope she's feeling okay." "Oh she's fine, I think. Just enjoying a late breakfast." "That means it's just the two of us I guess," he said as he slid over towards me. At this point I started. What was he doing? What should I do? My wife hadn't prepared me for this. I started to move away from him, but as I did so I felt his arm go round my shoulders and rest on the back of the hot tub. "Thank you for last night," he said. "It was really nice to be able to unwind with two lovely ladies. I'm pleased we've had the opportunity to meet again. I was hoping to get to know you a bit better last night, but I realise that you and your friend are, well, you know, and you probably aren't interested." "Oh, it's not like that," I said, and then wished I hadn't. "If it's not like that, what is it like," I thought to myself. "At least, not all the time," I added. "Oh," replied James, his face brightening up as he moved closer. "Are you, shall we say, flexible then?" Feeling trapped, all I could do was squeak. "That's great," he said, as he started to play with my hair. "Your friend is very nice, but I have to say it was you I was more attracted to last night. There's something different about you, something that makes me think I want to get to know you better." "Surely not in this state," I said quickly, hoping to put him off. "I've only just got up and been to the gym. I must look dreadful." "Believe me," he said, "I've seen worse, a lot worse." "Well, I'd rather wait until I'm slightly better prepared if you don't mind," I said, and began to move. "Not at all," said James, resting his hand on my shoulder. "When are you two leaving?" "Tomorrow." "Well surely between now and then we'll be able to spend some time together, perhaps dinner tonight?" "Perhaps. I'll need to check with my friend." "I was really thinking just the two of us." "I'll still need to check with her," I said, making as if to move again. "One more thing," said James, and as I turned round to look at him as he spoke to me, he kissed me full on the lips. "See you later," he said as I got out of the hot tub. I left without saying a word. * "You'll never guess what just happened," I said as I burst into the room, and then stopped short. As well as my wife, now dressed in a skirt and blouse, there was another woman in the room, and my wife was showing her the dildo she had used on me the previous night. "What happened, darling?" "Umm," I stuttered, "I was in the hot tub and James got in with me. He tried it on, and he kissed me." The words came out slowly as I tried to understand what was going on. "Oh, good for you," she replied. My initial thought was to argue with her, how was it good for me, but then this other woman was there. As far as she knew I was a woman. In her eyes surely there'd be no problem with a man coming on to me. "Oh, I do apologise. How rude of me. This is Andrea, she's come to do your hair." "What do you mean do my hair?" "So that you look beautiful when you're wearing this," she said, and pointed towards a sleek ivory coloured dress with thin straps and a bustier. "Why will I be wearing that?" "Oh don't be a silly goose. This is our tenth wedding anniversary; we're going to renew our vows at church. This time you're the bride. Now be a good girl, go and have a shower, Andrea and I still have to discuss a few things." As I took my shower, and shaved my face closely, I tried to listen to what was going on in the bedroom, but I could hardly hear anything over the sound of the water. I now realised that this Andrea must know all about me, and I began to think the worst. How many other people know? Who else was going to be at the church? When I got back into the bedroom, wearing a bathrobe, the two women were standing up chatting. "Ah Aimee, there you are," said my wife. "Now before you get dressed and let Andrea get you ready, she wants a demonstration." "A demonstration? What of?" "Come here." Not really knowing what else to do, I padded over the here at which point she made me kneel in front of her. As I did so I was looking straight at her crotch, and through the skirt I noticed something different about it. "Undo my skirt." "Are you sure?" I replied. "Just do it," she answered sharply. Following my instructions, I undid the zip at the back of her skirt and let it fall to the ground. When I did this I could see an unnatural bulge in her panties. "Now remove my panties." I didn't bother arguing this time because I knew what was coming, and somehow I thought that if I had argued, my wife and Andrea would have dealt with me appropriately. Pulling down her panties released the dildo, which sprang into my face. "Now you might be thinking that your fanny might be about to get the same treatment it did last night. Well, not now, I'm saving that for later. I just want you to hold the dildo, in your mouth." I opened my mouth to argue which was the wrong thing to do. No sooner had I done so than my wife thrust her groin forward and pulled my head onto the dildo. She held me there so I could get used to it, and then slowly started grinding in and out of my mouth. I had no choice but to suck it while my wife started talking to Andrea. "So you see how easy it is. I wish I'd tried this years ago. At least I'm getting some action this way; although not what you'd call proper action it's better than nothing. It's like I said to her earlier, Aimee's much more fun than Chris. I think that's enough for the time being," she said, releasing me. "Now Aimee, you need to start getting dressed so Andrea can sort out your hair and make-up, although by the look of your cheeks you're unlikely to need any rouge. Your clothes are on the bed. Something old, well that's my pearl necklace I'm going to let you borrow. Something new, well there's a brand new pair of stockings for you. Something borrowed, well that's the dress; I picked it up yesterday while you were in the salon, I have to take it back tomorrow. Something blue; well I thought you could wear that lovely basque you bought without telling me. For now you just need basque, panties and stockings, and hurry up, we haven't got all day." While I put the underwear on, my wife and Andrea started chatting about the demonstration. I heard my wife say, "I've only just got him started so he's not very good yet, but I've got time." Andrea seemed to think this was a super idea, and thought her husband might also benefit from the experience. When I was ready, I presented myself to Andrea who told me to sit down at the dressing table. "Now this is going to take some time, it's not everyday a girl has a white wedding is it." She turned to my wife to say, "If you've got something else to do, there's no need to wait here, I'm sure I'll be able to cope. When you get back I'll have a beautiful princess waiting for you." "What an excellent idea. There is something I need to do," and off she went. "Right sissy boy, let's get you ready." Despite the fact that I was now feeling threatened by the situation rather than enjoying it, Andrea did do a good job, and when my wife returned I was standing by the mirror, wearing the dress and admiring myself. "Oh what a good job you've done Andrea," she said walking over to me. "Give me a twirl." I obliged her. She held my shoulders and said, "You really do look beautiful," then whispered in my ear, "Sorry for earlier, I thought it might be fun. Here, I've got you a present." She handed me a box. Opening it I found a pair of ivory satin slippers. "Go on, try them on." They fitted perfectly, and matched the colour of the dress exactly. "Thank you," I said, and then, not wanting to sound rude, I added, "Thank you too Andrea, you've done a really good job." "That's all right love," she replied. "I hope you have a good day." After Andrea left, my wife turned to me and said, "Right, I think it's time for us to go, the service starts in half and hour, and we don't want to be held up this time as well do we." "But aren't you going to change," I asked. "Why?" "Well if I'm meant to be the bride, shouldn't you be dressed in a more masculine fashion? Won't it look a little odd for two women to be renewing their vows?" "I'm sure it will be fine," she said, and led me out of the door. As we walked through the hotel, I got admiring glances from everyone we saw, thankfully not James. The swish of the dress on my stocking-clad legs was delicious. When we got to the car, my wife decided it might be best if she drove. After a few minutes we arrived at a small church. I was grateful for the fact that I didn't recognise any of the cars outside. I took that to mean that my wife hadn't invited my whole family along. We were greeted at the door of the church and shown to a pew right at the front. There was already someone sitting there, a man in a suit, and as we sat down he turned round to acknowledge us. It was James! "Hello ladies. Fancy meeting you here. Wow Aimee, you look fantastic. Is it some kind of special occasion?" I just smiled at him and sat down. The service started and the vicar acknowledged that later on there would be a renewal of wedding vows. I didn't really focus on the service until my wife nudged me. "A now we have two guests who have chosen our church as the place to renew their wedding vows on this, their tenth wedding anniversary," the vicar said. "Aimee and James will you please come forward." "What?" I thought, and turned to look to my wife. She was smiling, and so was James who was getting up. I couldn't believe this was happening. "Go on then," said my wife, levering me out of the pew, "Don't keep everyone waiting." As I stood up, James took me hand and led me to the altar. The next few minutes were a bit of a haze. The vicar said some stuff, we had to repeat things after him, and James placed a silver ring studded with gems on my ring finger. Before I knew what was happening the vicar was summing up. "Let's congratulate them all on ten years of married life and wish them luck for their next ten years together. James, you may kiss your wife." To the sound of the whole church applauding, including my wife, James held my face in his hands and kissed me. This time it wasn't on the cheek, or a quick kiss on the lips, it was a full kiss, and as his tongue tried to find its way into my mouth, I found myself unable to resist. When he withdrew, he smiled at me and we made our way back to the pew. As I sat down next to my wife, she held my hand and gave it a squeeze. After the service, my wife said she had booked lunch in a countryside pub. It had obviously been planned, because James had taken a cab to the church so needed to come with us. Once again my wife drove, but when I went to get into the front seat she said, "I think the newly weds should be in the back seat together," so in I got with James. Throughout the journey to the pub James was stroking my neck, hair and shoulders saying how beautiful I was, and how lucky he was to be able to become part of my life. He even tried kissing me. I resist, concerned about what my wife might think, after all she was in the car as well. The funny thing was, however, she wasn't reacting, she was just smiling to herself. James contented himself with kissing my neck and shoulders. When we arrived at the pub I didn't say a word. It was only when we were sat down and James had gone to buy drinks that my wife asked me, "How do you feel?" "I'm not sure," I replied. "Why?" "Why what?" "Why did you do this? Why involve James? Why have me dressed like this to renew our vows?" "Why all the questions?" my wife retorted sharply. "I'll answer one now. Why involve James? I only actuall