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The Kiss by Marina Kelly Telling stories is not just the oldest form of entertainment; it's arguably the highest form of consciousness. I make no claim at being an accomplished author, but I have been weaving yarns for most of my life. I have been an avid reader of FM for years. This is my first contribution. I have written nothing but technical papers since freshman English class. I welcome all comments, albeit they be in the form of; criticisms, suggestions, or compliments. I am a big girl and can accept criticism constructive and otherwise. A person learns more through failure than success. I would like to acknowledge two very special individuals. The first is MEG from 'Phoenix Project' fame. I have tried in my humble way to replicate her sensuous writing style. I would also say I am indebted to her for some kind words and encouragement after reading my first chapter. My second acknowledgement is to an incredible woman and author, Kelly Ann Rodgers. She is, in my opinion, the finest writer on the web. She is my muse and inspiration. Her writings and subsequent correspondence have changed my life. Thank you Kelly Ann! Having said all that, everything within this story is exclusively my labor and a product of my warped imagination. Any sentence structure, spelling or grammar errors are solely my responsibility. They were made of ignorance and not from lack of effort on my part. Hugs to you all. Marina Please enjoy. ;=) Chapter 1. The Kiss It's a lazy Saturday afternoon at the Svensson household. Rose is sitting on the couch. Jack enters the room dressed in a pair of grey running shorts and his well worn Buccaneers t-shirt. Jack inserted a jazz CD into the player. Ambling over to Rose he gives his wife a quick almost perfunctory kiss on the lips. He then assumed his favorite position stretched out on the couch. Jack props his head on a comfy throw pillow and gently lays his feet in his Rose's lap. Jack contentedly relaxes, ready for a long nap. It has been an extremely stressful week. Jack's boss had been more of a jackass than usual. At the weekly wrap-up meeting, Mike made a point of expressing his disappointment at his company's recent sales figures. Mike repeatedly drew attention to Jack's department and its deteriorating numbers. At the end of the meeting, Mike told Jack to stay behind. Rose, Mike's executive assistant, was about to leave and Mike said, "No Rose, I want you to hear this too." The bombastic ex-football player stood towering over Jack and roared, "Your department's figures continue to go in the crapper. If this keeps up, Rose will be the only Svensson working here. Do I make myself clear? Or does my assistant need to draft you a memo?" Jack attempted to defend himself with a discussion of the economic recession. Mike dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Look little man, excuses are like assholes. Everyone has them, and they are only good for putting out shit. Either you start producing or clean out your desk." To make matters worse, Mike grabs Rose and gives her a big bear hug. "Don't worry my little Rose Bud. As long as I am CEO you will have a place along side of me. Maybe someday we can even start our own garden. I would be glad to plow the field and plant the seeds." Jack detested it when Mike addressed his wife in such a manner. Mike made no effort to hide his attraction to Rose. Mike's flirtations and continual sexual innuendos could only be described as blatant sexual harassment. Jack seethed, because he needed the job, he concealed his outrage. As usual, Rose appeared blas? about the whole thing. Jack and Rose have had this conversation numerous times. Jack wanted Rose to actively discourage Mike's sexism; he also detested the short and tight outfits Rose often wore to work. As a beautiful woman Rose concluded that putting up with a chauvinist environment was the price to be paid for success in the business world. Rose has risen from the secretarial pool to Executive Assistant by tolerating that pig Mike and playing the submissive subordinate. Of course her good looks and business degree also played a significant role in her spectacular rise. Rose's favorite retort was "It is easier for a woman to climb the cooperate ladder in a mini skirt than a bland shapeless business suit." During that same five year period, Jack has languished in sales. By Saturday Jack was both emotionally and physically exhausted. Friday night Jack was so upset he had been unable to sleep. Rose sat there manicuring her fingernails with a new deep red vinyl sparkly nail polish. As her husband slept, she finished her nails. Rose suddenly had a wicked thought. He has the cutest toes I have ever seen on a man I wonder what they would look like with a little color. Rose starts by painting one thin coat of red color in the middle of his big toe. As she painted a stripe on the left and right side her hands started shaking from the excitement. Rose had to pause and compose herself before she finished. Re-dipping her brush into the bottle then starting over the nail again so the color was evenly distributed on each toe. Rose prayed he wouldn't wake up until she was done. Rose waited a full 20 minutes, went back and applied a second lush coat to each toe. Rose paused to contemplate her marriage, 'G-d, I love this man. I would never want to totally emasculate him. Even so, my fascination at seeing my hubby feminized grows stronger ever day. I know this obsession is foolhardy. This compulsion has baffled me for years. Jack's face is way too masculine to pass as a woman, yet my every fantasy is dominated by the idea of seeing this man sashay into the room made up like a supermodel and wearing a Christian Dior evening gown with matching pumps and handbag. I can't understand the incongruity of those concepts, but they are what they are. My G-d how many times have I masturbated to that image? Unfortunately, my manly husband has ignored all my not so subtle hints. To make things worse, he has rebuffed all my earlier attempts of introducing this type of role playing into our sex life. Rose considered the toenails a small first step. But as the Chinese say, 'the journey of a thousand miles begins with but a single step.' Rose laughed nervously and thought, 'this red glitter polish is to die for!' Rose should not have worried about arousing Jack. He remained in a deep REM sleep. After two hours of pondering her options, Rose couldn't sit still; her arousal had reached a fevered pitch. She had to get up to use the bathroom. She was so stimulated that she was leaking; her pussy juice had soaked through her underwear, dampened her skirt, and even produced a wet patch on the couch. She was so soggy she squished when she walked. Slipping off her skirt and her underpants, Rose dropped them alongside the couch. I need to do a load of wash anyway reasoned Rose. She gazed wistfully at her underpants. Hum, I would bet they would fit him, but the color is all wrong. Peach is just not Jack's color with his blond locks, besides it would clash with his polish. Rose hurried to the bathroom, chuckling along the way. After composing herself, Rose crept into the kitchen to get a glass of wine. Upon reaching the liquor cabinet she reconsiders and decides on something stronger. Rose ended up with two fingers of Scotch. Uncharacteristically, she gulped it down in three quick swallows. The alcohol provided a momentary buzz and emboldened her with a sense of adventure. He will blow a gasket when he sees what I have planned, Rose sniggered to herself. The 10-year old malt whisky did nothing to diminish her ardor. Rose almost sprinted the short distance to their bedroom, where she stripped and went about setting the perfect ambiance. Rose was determined to make this a night to remember. She drew the drapes, turned off the lights, and lit a number of candles. As a finishing touch she liberally sprayed the bed sheets and herself with perfume. On the way back to her husband, she stopped to strategically place her open toed Marabou slippers at the end of the bed. These will come in handy later, thought Rose. She loved the way they made her legs look, but more importantly so did Jack. She paused to refresh her makeup applying an extra heavy coat of luscious, creamy red lipstick. Her color selection was easy; it had to match Jack's toes. Trying not to disturb her sleeping sweetie, Rose tiptoed naked into the living room and knelt next to Jack's head. Rose leaned over him and positioned her lips over Jack's just a breath away. She held that position, as close as she could without touching. Devoid of her panties her crotch had gone from a marsh to a flowing stream. Rose hadn't been this excited since her honeymoon. Rose stuck just the tip of her tongue out and ever so slowly tickled the crack between her husbands' closed lips. With superhuman self-control her touch was as light as the beating of a butterfly's wing. Her arousal continued to build. Her objective was to see how long she could prolong this game. Every time Jack threatened to stir Rose would withdraw her tongue. Deciding to up the ante in this sexually charged sport, Rose reached down to her thigh and moistened her fingertip with some of her juice. Her thigh was sopping wet, what had been a trickle was now a torrent. Rose lightheartedly thought if this gets any worse I am going to have to issue a flash flood warning. Capturing a couple of droplets on her finger she transfers the precious liquid to the tip of her tongue. She moves her tongue back to the crack between Jack's lips, transferring a tantalizing small amount of her love juice onto his lips. This dance went on for a considerable time. Ultimately, the process made Jack's lips glistened as if he was wearing lip gloss. This vision so excited Rose that she had to use her discarded panties to soak up her excess emissions before they stained the carpet. Rose suspected that at some point Jack had awakened and was just playing possum as she noticed his respiration had become shallow and more rapid. It was obvious that Jack was enjoying this little game as a bulge was rapidly growing in his shorts. Rose stubbornly avoided any contact between their lips. With total concentration, she could linger just a whisper above his inviting mouth. Mischievously, she reached down and using two fingers scooped up a large quantity of the discharge that continued to pour from her most intimate orifice. Rose ladled the juice up to her tongue that she had formed it in an inverted V. She was now able to retain a significant amount of the viscous liquid. She held it there, unintentionally augmenting it with her saliva. Rose continued to scoop until the mixture threatened to overflow. Positioning her mouth directly over Jack's she transferred the solution into the valley formed by his lips. The cloudy liquid briefly sat on and pooled between his lips, with just a trace trickling out the sides. Jack's only response was to open his lips a minuscule amount and suck in the rich ambrosia. Rather than open his eyes as Rose had expected, Jack encouraged a prolongation of the game by opening his mouth and cleaning the remaining residue by slowly licking his lips with just the tip of his tongue. Rose impishly reached down and retrieved an additional amount of her secretions. Using her finger she lightly recoated Jack's lips with the essence of her excitement. Before Jack could respond Rose gently blew across the moist flesh. The sensation produced a smile from her lover. Sensing Rose close, Jack stuck his tongue out and wiggled it about, encouraging Rose to do, likewise. Jack was evidently peeking because just as Rose reciprocated, he reached up with one hand and jerked his adorable wife's head down. This maneuver allowed Jack to lock his lips around her tongue. Applying as much suction as he could muster, Jack held Rose's tongue prisoner. In response to this surprise and unprovoked attack, a shocked Rose thought there is no way I am letting this guy take control. This is my party and we are going to play by my rules. I had been trying to be gentle and delicate. Well let's see how he likes it if I take control. Before the final curtain comes down, this Puppeteer will have 'Mister, I'm in charge' dancing to my tune. In no time at all, he will be prancing around like a prima ballerina. Hum, I wonder where I can get a Tutu. No - that might be a bridge too far. Rose reached for her discarded panties and used them to mop up all her juices that had accumulated since her last cleanup. Taking the now saturated panties, Rose deposited them directly over Jack's nostrils. Because of the airlock on his mouth, Jack was forced to breathe through and around the panty. The blending of pheromones and Rose's sweet perfume produced an intoxicating bouquet. Rose observed her lover taking a series of deep breaths, trying to capture as much of this pungent aroma his senses would allow. If I could bottle and sell that as an aphrodisiac I would be a millionaire, thought Rose. Rose decided rather than engaging in a tug-of-war for her tongue, she would do the unexpected. She dove at Jack's mouth attacking it like a hungry lion on the Serengeti. Forcefully grinding her lips on his, she stuck her tongue as far into Jack's mouth as it would go. This counterattack caught Jack totally off guard. Rose without breaking contact was able to shift her position to the end of the couch. This new arrangement had the advantage of providing her an unobstructed view down the length of Jack's body. Jack reluctantly released his grip on her tongue. He shifted tactics by using his tongue to lightly paint the area between her lip and front teeth. Rose thought, the bastard is trying to take control again, we'll see about that. She then used her chin to wedge the drenched panties firmly over Jack's nostrils. Her husband was now required to breathe through the saturated material rather than around it. After just a few seconds Jack's breathing started to become somewhat labored. Rose, was thinking, I do believe I have just discovered a new version of water boarding. How do I get this idea to the army? By supporting her weight on her arms, Rose was able to keep her eyes open and focused over his bulging shorts to those sparkling red toenails. Jack's arousal had now merged with just a touch of panic. His body had become ridged and his feet were pointed straight out and doing a great impression of a ballerina's 'On Pointe.' Rose thought, My G-d those legs would look fantastic in a pair of tights. Jack eventually freed his arms and reaching up he attempted to pull Rose over the armrest onto his body. No way buddy I am calling the shots, reflected Rose. She grabbed both his arms and pinned them back to the couch with all her weight. Relenting on the pressure being applied to the panties, Rose permitted Jack to resume breathing normally. She wanted the entire focus to be on the kiss. Kissing had become a humdrum prelude to their love making. Rose was determined to change that, this was going to be a kiss that would linger in their mutual memories and henceforth be referred to as 'The Kiss'. Rose was teasingly, ever so slowly drawing her tongue across Jack's. This delicate dance eventually progressed to a wrestling match. Rose was trying, with very little success, to pin the squirming appendage to the floor of his mouth. Rose particularly enjoyed placing the tip of her tongue against his and gently forcing Jack's into a tactical retreat. As Jack's resistance increased, Rose was forced to reinsert her control. She switched from tongue fencing to biting his lower lip with enough force to compel Jack to remain still. Rose didn't want to injure him, but she needed a little pain to enforce her total dominance. After subduing her partner, Rose slowly extended her tongue as far into Jack's mouth, she as could comfortably reach. Once properly positioned she began a detailed exploration of Jack's orifice. Rose was concentrating on the tactile experience of the entwined tongues. She leisurely, explored the entire grotto. Her tongue swept from the roof, pass his teeth and to the gums. Eventually, her investigation led to the soft spongy tissues under Jack's tongue. Rose was astonished to find how extremely exhilarating it was to focus solely on the textural differences between the various portions of the mouth. After committing to memory every nuance of his mouth, Rose started sharing breaths, exhaling through her mouth into Jack's lungs. The two lovers continued exchanging the same breath. The law of physics eventually prevailed and the lack of oxygen produced a euphoric dizzying high. Keeping her eyes focused on the red wiggling appendages Rose observed his toes coiled in a ball. 'Ericka', though Rose I have finally managed a kiss that has curled his toes. Despite her best efforts, Rose's vision was now being obscured by the tenting from Jack's shorts. Rose took great glee in the dark circle forming on the tip of the pyramid. Rose thought I'm thrilled to know that I am not the only one leaking. Finally, with her arms quivering from the exertion, Rose relented and let her full weight rest entirely on their lips. This went from erotic to painful in a very short time. Reluctantly Rose was forced to break the kiss. As she withdrew her tongue, Jack started to do likewise. Before Jack could extricate his tongue Rose puckered up one more time, lovingly kissed just the tip of his tongue. This produced a contented sigh from Jack. As she stood, Rose discarded the panties next to her skirt. She took this last opportunity to gently flick her tongue across the tip of Jack's nose. Standing, Rose gazed down at her beloved husband, who now wore an adorable smirk. Rose wickedly smiled. More than a fair amount of her lipstick had transferred to Jack's lips, My G-d, look what I have done. He has the lips of an angle; Raphael couldn't have done better. Bending over one more time she kissed each eyelid transferring what remained of her lipstick on to his eyelids. I will have to keep him away from the mirrors until I get him in bed, thought Rose. Grasping his hand she breathlessly said, "Come on honey let's go make a baby." "I have found men who didn't know how to kiss. But I've always found time to teach them." Mae West @ @ @ @ Chapter 2. Sex is like dinner; sometimes you savor the main course and linger over it. Other times you rush through it just to get to desert. Jack rolls off the couch, standing up to follow his wife. Sensing something is wrong he sees a flash of color out of the corner of his eye, but Rose's naked body magnetically draws Jack's full attention. Jack starts forward to catch-up with his wife when she abruptly stops. Jack has to bunny hop to the side to keep from running over Rose. She turns and smiles at Jack with a devilish twinkle in her eyes she reaches for his shorts with both hands. Rose looks down at the bulging trunks and says, "My, my, it looks like a baby whale, maybe we should 'Free Willy', what do you think?" Kneeling she violently yanks the shorts down to his ankles in one quick jerk, His ridged member literally springs free and inadvertently pokes Rose in the eye. Rose stands and wipes the tears from her offended eye, she says, "Where is my cell phone I need to report that I have just been attacked with a deadly weapon. I demand a lineup; I would recognize that one eyed prick anywhere!" Laughing she now reaches out and lightly grabs his sausage. "Yes officer this is the guilty party, I am almost sure of it. Of course after awhile they all do begin to look alike." Glancing down she spies a dollop of gooey substance seeping out and pooling on the top of 'old faithful'. Using her finger she wipes the end of Jacks prick clear of his pre-com. seductively she raises her finger, examines it in the light, then sniffs it and eventually positions it at her mouth; she licks her finger drawing the slick lubricate into her mouth. "Officer now I am positive this is my assailant. I demand it get a life sentence." Rose takes her fingers and reaches between her own legs and returns with them covered with her dew. Offering them to Jack she says, "Want a taste?" Jack attacks them like a malnourished barracuda swooping on a stray minnow. He is now suckling on her fingers like a calf affixed to its mother's teats. Jack is relishing the taste and utterly enjoying the game. Rose slowly starts toward their bedroom with Jack attached to her fingers. Jack attempts to step out of his shorts and stumbles. Glancing down, for the first time he notices his toenails. Releasing the fingers Jack says "Rose, just what have you done to me?" Chuckling Rose says, "Relax honey, I was just playing around." "Well Sweetheart I don't think this is funny, and I never signed up for that game. Get it off right now!" Smiling Rose points to the empty bottle on the side table and says "Sorry dear, no can do. I used up the last of my polish remover redoing my nails." "Well damn it Rose go get some more right now"! Reaching for his ridge member, Rose says, "If you really want me to go now, I will. However, little Willy is saying something different." Rose slowly and with a velvet touch begins stoking his pole, running her hand down with a feathery caress, at the bottom she pauses, extends her pinkie and tickles the hair on his balls, then slowing, mischievously retracing her movements uphis manhood to the mushroom tip. Reaching it, she delicately takes her finger and scopes up another drop of liquid oozing out the small slit. Rose takes her finger and brings it up to her mouth and starts sucking on it mimicking a teenager attacking the straw of a frozen milkshake. Jack has lost all concern about his toenails and is painfully rigid. He is so turned on he would fuck a cactus just to get relief." "Well big boy, do you still want me to go to the store? I won't be gone more than an hour or so." "Damn it Rose you are not playing fair." "Not playing fair, is what losers and whiners say, so, which are you? Now I am tired of you dragging your feet. I am going to the bedroom Jackie. If you aren't there in two minutes I am starting without you!" The sight of her retreating tosh brought a flush to Jack's face. It took all of a millisecond to make his decision. He kicks off his shorts, discards his shirt and follows his wife to the bedroom. Walking is almost painful with his penis at full staff. In a trance like state Jack follows his divining rod of a penis straight to the bedroom. Jack approaches the room and is overwhelmed with the emanating aroma. Stepping into the doorway he gasps, the site before him is straight out of 'Penthouse' it literally takes his breath away. It is a carefully staged tableau with no pretense at subtlety. Rose has arranged a scene of blatant sexuality. Her naked body is backlit by candlelight. Rose is positioned at the end of the bed, bent over with her hands supporting her weight. She has her breasts swinging rhythmically from side to side. Perched on her tall pumps her ass is protruding out at an almost obscene angle. Her plump posterior was bobbing up and down in perfect harmony to the rhythm of her swaying tits. Rose looks over at Jack and watches for his reaction. Jack mutters "In the name of Odin, Rose you would make a hooker blush." As seductively as she can, Rose purrs, "I see you have decided to play, even if it's not a fair contest. Thought you would never get here, see anything you like? Dive right in, the waters fine." Jack almost sprints over to his wife and as if a sign of worship to this spectacular women Jack genuflects behind her. Rose, you are a goddess. Kneeling in her wake, Jack is gulping in every molecule of her magnificent scent. Jack is enjoying the aroma so much he is now panting like a blood hound and starting to hyperventilate. Getting light headed, he grasps both of Roses' legs. With his head down, Jack notices the sparkle of a million small diamonds running along her inner thighs. Flickering candle light bouncing off her trickling flow has created a vision Jack will carry to his grave. Jack, slips off her heels, starts at her ankles and launches himself into the task of capturing every drop of her precious liquid. Jack had never been religious, but his adulation for this woman superimposed over his emotional state made swallowing her discharges seem almost like receiving communion. Using his lithe tongue Jack lapped up every drop of residue. Jack is thinking I have died and gone to heaven - move over Thor here I come. Unfortunately, for Jack the more he licked the more discharge Rose produced. It now became a contest, would Jack's tongue give out from exhaustion before Rose dehydrated? Jack's perseverance eventually paid off. Unlike Moses he entered the Promised Land. He started by gently, lovingly kissing her vulva. Jack forced her legs apart and with his fingers opens her lips. Taking a good look at her labia, Jack pauses to say, "Rose you are beautiful. In response to that Rose raised her hips pushing herself towards those waiting lips. Using his whole tongue Jack starts licking her like an ice cream cone from top to bottom and back again. Upon reaching her asshole, Jack pauses and flicks his tongue like a butterfly across the puckered hole. Inappropriately, Jack wonders why nature designed a sewage plant adjacent to a playground. Returning to his primary target he gently licked back to her labia. Her vulva has swelled perceptibly and despite her face berried into the pillow Rose was raucously moaning and her legs were starting to tremble. For a moment Jack thought he was going to drown. The dam had burst and Rose's flow had begun anew. The more Jack licked the harder Rose pushed her ass into Jack's face. Jack added more pressure and now focused on the area around her clit. He paused to build anticipation and just lightly blew his breath across her moist lips. Rose shivered at the delicate sensations radiating from her love passage. Jack tenderly runs the tip of his tongue over her clitoris, puckers his lips and sucks the small nub into his mouth. Rose responds, "No honey not now. I know all those hours practicing on the Oboe have produced the most talented mouth in the western hemisphere but that is not what I need right now. I need to feel you inside me, please. Please put 'Tiny Tim' in and shake him all about. Jack will you please ride me, long and hard, please, please. And don't you dare cum until I tell you. If you leave me hanging, you will be going steady with your Rosie Palm for a long time." Jack stands and thinks Rosie Palm indeed, and decides it is time to tease back. He grasps hold of little Jack and rubs the silky head up and down her soggy lips. Jack continued this game pausing each pass at her tunnel entrance, inserting the penis just enough to part her lips, then withdrawing and continuing its journey over the glistening soft tissue. This caused Rose's vagina to twinge and tighten in anticipation. Rose has her face buried deep into the pillow to keep from screaming with passion. The next time Jack pauses at her entrance Rose violently rocks back and manages to impale herself on his manly spear. Jack can wait no longer and proceeds to thrust like his is drilling for oil. Rose has long legs thus forcing Jack to stretch on his tiptoes. Rose has raised her head abandoning the now soggy pillow and is staring between her legs watching the action. Seeing those red toenails and Jack's ball sack slapping against her each stroke sends Rose over the top. She refuses to let Jack know she has already come; she keeps yelling. "More, more, O.M.G. don't stop now I am so close, you bastard don't stop." Jack never had anything to brag about size wise. In fact in high school gym class he picked up that hateful nickname of 'Pee Wee', but he was extremely proud of his stamina. He was now using every ounce of self- control he could muster to keep from coming. Eventually, Jack was forced to pause and says "Honey, I am sorry I have to rest. My calves are cramping from standing up on my toes." "Oh Go-d damn you Jack, don't you dare stop now! I am so close. Put on my pumps, right there at your feet. It will let you continue. Please hurry." Despite his embarrassment, Jack slips on the shoes and resumes his husbandly duty. He finds the high heels are the perfect solution and can now bury each stroke up to the hilt. Rose watches Jack's toes peeking out from the opened toed slippers; this vision sends Rose over the top yet again. By now the pillow was nothing but a damp rag from her saliva. Jack's stamina is reaching the boiling point. Rose has her ass bouncing like a 'Super Ball' dropped from a three story building. Jack can feel the pressure building and building. Trying to prolong his pleasure Jack starts mentally counting, 10 -9 -8 -7. His legs started to quiver. His ass muscles clutched tight, and he can hold back no longer, the engines are lit, and there is no stopping them now. We have to lift off. The rocket launches its payload into the heavenly delights of Rose's cervix. Jack is awash in ecstasy. It feels so good it almost hurts. Rose arching her back, wildly throws her head back screams and climaxes yet again. She realizes for the first time in her life the meaning of the word 'Rapture'. Jack spent, gently collapses onto her back; laying there he wraps his arms around Rose and holds her tight, letting the sweet throbbing slowly fade away - the loving couple's individual spirits have merged. It is as if they were in one skin - one being. Jack recovers first and starts covering her back with small kisses traversing from one shoulder to the next. Moving up to her neck where he just nibbled for a while saying over and over "I love you, I love you." Rose has never been so sated in her whole life. She eventually coaxes Jack into bed with her. He has forgotten about the color on his nails. Rose tries to cover Jack with her Ivory colored satin robe, but Jack vehemently rejects this idea and just pulls the covers over him. He is asleep in seconds. Rose is not done with her plan; she crawls out of bed, tiptoes her way to the house thermostat. With a naughty grin, she turns the heat way down, eventually creating a real chill in the house. She climbs back in bed and rolls up in all the covers intentionally leaving Jack exposed. Rose drapes her robe over her sleeping lover, knowing that in the night, he will instinctively wrap it around himself to keep warm. The next morning: Jack wakes up enveloped in the satiny material. Rose was there with her head perched on a pillow staring down at her husband wrapped in the gorgeous robe, sparkling ruby toes peeking out the end. As Jack opens his eyes, Rose says, "Come on honey; let's go get some breakfast, as a reward for your magnificent performance last night I will even cook. Keep the robe on its cold in here and put the slippers back on the floor is freezing." Jack starts to object, stands and realizes it is freezing in the house. At his wife's insistence, he puts the robe on and wraps it tightly around himself. Feeling the satiny material against his skin produces an almost immediate reaction. Jack's traitorous penis responds to the tactical sensation and embarrassingly tents out the garment. Rose smiles and tightly clutches his organ encasing it in the silky-smooth material. She forcefully grips it and uses it as a pull toy to get Jack headed to the kitchen. Stumbling in his heels; Jack has no choice but to follow. Rose firmly clasping her prize and with a swagger conducts the parade to the kitchen. As they reached the kitchen she turned and faces Jack. She begins caressing him using the satin material. One hand she used to tease his organ and the other hand Rose began to lightly stoke his nipples that were nubbin out through the top of the robe. Rose was watching her husband's face as a barometer of her ministrations. Every time she squeezed his nipples it evoked a reaction like he had been prodded with an electrode. His penis would twitch in harmonization with the stimulation being applied to the two miniature erections on his chest. Rose, was marveling at the amount of pleasure she was giving her beloved husband. Jack's erection grew larger than Rose ever remembered. She usually thought of his penis in terms of diminutive, of course she would never reveal that to Jack, she knew he was self-conscious about the size of his manhood. However, something different was happening today. It seemed more like Moby Dick than the mighty minnow she normally thought of. Rose could feel firmness and the larger girth; it was nowhere near the size of her last boyfriend but was now approaching average size. Jack's face was flushed, and straining. When his eyes rolled back into his head and his body stiffened Rose realized he was there. He had reached that special plateau where every sense, every fiber of your being is focused on the achieving that nirvana of a climax. One more stoke and Jack was over the top. Rose inadvertently squeaked out, "Thar she blows." With just an auditable moan and shaky knees Jack exploded. His climax was intense and cataclysmic. All the discharge was directed into the robe. Rose was concerned for a moment Jack was going to faint. But it turned out it was just his being unstable in the heels. By the time Jack recovered from the orgasm, he had saturated the robe and produced a significant puddle on the floor. Staring down at the wet robe Jack started to cry. @ @ @ @ Chapter 3. Jack opens his soul to reveal his hidden secret. Minor thing can become moments of great revelation when encountered for the first time." Margot Fonteyn "Jack, honey what's the matter, it is only a game. I never want to do anything to hurt or embarrass you. "Well not hurt you anyway. Tell me what's wrong. Unless you are the world's best actor, and I don't see any Oscars around here, you enjoyed this morning." Jack responds "That is the problem. Not only did I enjoy it. I loved it too much." "Jack did you hit your head? Why are you talking crazy?" Jack leans against the wall for support, still wrapped in the soggy robe and relates his story. "Rose I have kept this from you for too long, let me tell you what kind of man you really married. Just promise when I get done you won't hate me." "Jack, stop being such a drama queen! There is nothing short of you being a serial killer that would affect the way I feel about you. "Oh Rose, no it is much worse." "Rose, let me tell you my story, then we will see how you will judge me. As a young boy I would sneak into the bathroom and take my mother's silk panties out of the hamper and masturbate with them, much like you just did for me. The feeling was just so divine; I became addicted to the caress of women's underwear. Just the thought of it would get me aroused. I convinced myself that I had put that whole thing behind me. Now I realize the demons are still there just buried under the surface. Like the roots of a weed, time has allowed them to grow. I am afraid this perversion now threatens to take over my soul." Rose was taken aback by her husband's revelation and his choice of the words 'divine and perversion'. "Go on Jack tell me the rest. That is not that unusual. I am sure lots of little boys use their mother's delicates for that purpose." Jack answers back, "Yes Rose you are probably right. Nevertheless, how many are caught wearing their mother's bra with a soiled pair of panties draped across their face?" Rose's curiosity is now peaked. "Go on dear this has to have a very titillating explanation." "Well I was in the bathroom one afternoon and had just finished masturbating and was about to replace the panties in the hamper, and I noticed my mother's bra on top. I thought the panties felt amazing, how would the bra feel against my nipples? I took it out and after several tries fastened it around my chest. It looked ridiculous all flat and puckered, so I decided to stuff the cups. Now what to use, the wet panty was out of the question. The bath towels are overkill, so I went with washcloths. There were two readily handy on the sink. Stuffing those in the cups got me aroused and little Jack was showing new life. I looked into the mirror, in my adolescent sexually charged brain. I was mentally expecting a playmate profile, but with just those in my bra cups it was more like two flat tires. My mother was a really, how do I put this, a full figured woman and one wash cloth in each cup failed to alter my silhouette. I needed something more to fill them out. So I decided to think this problem through, after all I was in the gifted program at school. Rather than trial an error I decided to use a scientific approach to my transformation. I would calculate the volume of material required. I was able to recall the volume of a sphere 4/3 ? Pi ? r?. Half the way through the mental gymnastics to ascertain what was needed it hit me, a bra cup is more like a cone than a sphere. Trying to remember the volume of a cone made my head hurt, with all my blood pooling in my nether region, I wasn't up to the math challenge. Oddly enough I decided I would never be a great research scientist. But just maybe I could be a fashion model, after all 'Twiggy' did it with little more than I have. I have long blond hair and blue eyes. However, unfortunately I also have a face like the south end of a north bound bulldog, thus making my chances of a modeling career something less than probable. So I went back to my search for the figure solution. The trial and error method seemed the easiest answer. So my next attempt was to use toilet paper as there was no Kleenex in the room. Using up the only roll of T.P. in the bathroom I abandoned that idea and dumped the rejected material in the toilet bowl. Trying to flush the evidence away was a terrible mistake. Watching the water level relentlessly continue to rise, my world was flooding. As the water swirled and interminably rose, I kept praying for a miracle. Please water go down, Dear G-d, don't do this to me. I became convinced that I knew how Noah felt standing on the deck of the ark, sans the animals of course. Now I was really regretting not having flushed the toilet after the last time I pumped bilges. Watching the water rise and spill over the bowl was pure agony. How would I explain this to my mother? As the torrent of water cascaded on to the floor, I began to feel this was all heavenly retribution for playing hooky from Sunday school. Now I really started to panic. Three bath towels stuffed under the door made a fantastic dam. I thought maybe I could be a civil engineer until I heard the water dripping to the basement below. However, in the short term I had the flood contained. Now I was ready to return to my boob problem. The two inches of water on the floor can wait. My next mistake was identifying the linen closet as a source of additional washcloths. I splashed through the water, warily avoiding the brown floating debris and reached the closet to retrieve the makings for my bosoms. Regrettably, I was unable to reach the shelf they were on. In my aroused state, I made another crucial error. Using my expertise of cantilevers and tensile strengths I stood on the bottom shelf, knowing that it would hold my svelte body. As I put my full weight on the self it began to sag in the middle, but held. I was not worried. I was in the advanced math class and had this all figured out. Standing on my tiptoes, I made one last desperate grab for the washcloths. I manage to grab two of them a heartbeat before disaster struck and the shelf broke with a sharp crack. Rose I now have definitive proof there is a G-d. Divine intervention is the only possible explanation for that board breaking. There's no way the smartest kid in school had miscalculated the tensile strength of the shelf. With the panties in one hand and the washcloths in the other it was impossible I could keep my balance. The splintered shelf sent me plummeting into space. Unexplainably my immediate thoughts were 'Houston, we have a problem', I guess I could cross out civil engineering as a livelihood. My legs and hands were whirlingin a desperate attempt to retain my balance, failing that I tossed the washcloths in the air and then made a valiant effort to fly, wildly flapping my arms and legs. Sea of Tranquility here I come. I instinctively knew I would never reach escape velocity, but I held out the faint hope of achieving a brief hover. Shortly before splashdown I abandoned trying to produce lift and grabbed the panties with both hands and attempted to use it as a parachute. In retrospect, I imagine a pair of soggy underpants does not a parachute make. Alas my career as an aeronautical engineer was short lived. I crash landed on my ass in the puddle of toilet water, cascading waves of sewage onto my mother's wallpapered ramparts. To put the finishing touches on this scene I then had the good fortune of striking my head on the porcelain bowl with a ringing thud. As a gymnast my two point landing was at best a 1.5. The fireworks display in my mind was quit spectacular and adequately compensated for my low score from the judges. They say timing is everything. This precise moment my mother came running in order to determine the source of the commotion. She opened the door and was rewarded by a tidal wave of water engulfing her feet. An instant later she saw the water trickling down the walls, destroying her favorite rose designed wallpaper. Turning her attention to me, at the precise moment my totally inadequate canopy of a parachute drifted earthward and landed across my face with the jism side down. My mother started to scream adding sound effects to my internal pyrotechnics display. Mom's initial apprehension for my safety quickly abated as she surveyed the disaster at her feet. Her motherly concern for my wellbeing diminished and was rapidly replaced with anger, contempt and scorn. "My Lord why are my panties in your mouth while you are wearing my bra? And why is your 'thing' stiff, and what is the disgusting stuff all over my underpants? Is that what I think it is? Now I understand all those strange stains that have been showing up. Young man you have some serious explaining to do! And look what you have done to my wallpaper!" "In my defense, my brain was a bit addled, and I made a wisecrack about how she should thank me, for I had managed simultaneously to water and fertilize those dumb flowers. I then discovered a significant biological statute. That no matter how hard she tries, one's mother cannot unscrew their son's ears. Standup comedian was diffidently not in my immediate future. Now how does an almost 12 year old boy talk his way out of this? My first attempt was to stick with the aeronautical theme, "It was just an assignment for school, and I was attempting to recreate a Wright Brothers experiment. As you can imagine that story didn't fly either." Mom pointed to my chest and asked "And what about the bra?" "My clever explanation was that it was padding in case of a crash landing. That retort sounded brilliant in my head, but came out of my lips as something less than clever. Not only was it immediately rejected. It was sent down in flames with a snicker. To make matters worse my dear mother took it as smartass backtalk. She informed me in no uncertain terms, she was not in a mood for my flights of fancy. In the mists of her tirade, mom noticed her panties were now lying under my chin. Her grilling about the soaked panties was straight out of a Perry Mason rerun. It was obvious I was just digging a hole for myself. If I continued on this path, I would soon need a ladder to get out. So I gave up the insanity plea, and threw myself on the mercy of the court." Rose tried to contain herself, but this was too much, and she laughed, and laughed some more. She laughed until it hurt. Between gasps for air Rose said, "Let me see if I have this right, your mother wades in. The bathroom is flooded with sewage. Her linen closet is destroyed. Her son is on his back, wearing her bra and his prick is pointing to the stars, and as the coup d'?tat you have her panties in your mouth. Is all that correct? Go on Jack this is better than Saturday Night Life. OMG, I think I just piddled in my panties." Jack didn't think it was so funny, as he continued his saga. "As a last resort I decided to try telling the truth. My unbroken streak of dumb mistakes went into the record books. Flashing through my mind was a picture of George Washington, escaping punishment by using the lame excuse 'But I cannot tell a lie'. Well, that is as phony as the saying 'The truth will set you free.' Rose let me tell you, that is all pure bullshit. The more I opened up to my mother the madder she became. Shaking with rage she screamed at me and told me I was a disgusting pig, objectifying women - equating them to lingerie. If she thought she could get away with it, she would ensure I never masturbated again. She would take me to the vet right now. Then, snip, snip I would become her 'dear steer'." As she laughed at her morbid humor, I was beginning to get concerned." Mom continued "I would have to be taught a lesson; my hands reflexively covered my private parts." But thankfully she went on. "You will have to clean the bathroom and pay for the broken shelf. This I expected and felt it was justified. Then this woman I thought loved me sucker punched me in the gut. Jack you will also replace all my soiled and stained underwear. When I started to argue she replied, No problem, I will tell your father the whole story and let him work out an equitable solution." "Kneeling in the toilet water, I tried to placate her and played the complete supplicant and implored her not to tell my father. Through a cascade of tears I wailed, please don't tell Dad, I will do anything just don't tell him." I would have sold my soul to the devil to avoid my father finding out. Little did I know that I was already negotiating with his representative? My mother was not instinctively cruel, but as I was to find out, the inquisition could have taken lessons from her." After a thoughtful minute, my mother replied "All right young man we have a deal. Summer vacation is coming up next week, no playing outside for you. You will work for me doing housework until you have earned enough money to replace all my underwear." Mom was beaming like she had just won the lottery. We both agreed this was a better solution then involving my father. Extricating myself, from the sludge of excrement polluted water I stood to shake on the deal. Extending my hand, my mother recoiled in horror. "I am not touching that 'thing' until you wash it." Thirty minutes, a bar of soap, and two layers of skin later my mother finally agreed that my hand was sanitized sufficiently to shake hands, and then we performed the most solemn ceremony a 12 year can participate in, we pinkie swore. Thus, I freely sold myself into bondage for the price of a pair of panties, and I began my lost summer. About this time my double vision cleared up, and my mind became lucid. I inquired "How long will I have to work to earn the money. How much do they cost?" Mom said "Honey, I am sorry to tell you this but because of my buxom figure, I can only wear the very best lingerie out there, and it tends to be extremely expensive" "But mom, how will I know when we are even?" "Well dear, I will pay you $1.75 an hour and when you have earned what you think is enough I will let you to go and shop for a replacement set." "How will I know how much is enough?" "My son, I will tell you what we can do. After dinner, I will take you to my favorite lingerie store, and we can go to browse, and you can get an idea of their prices. It will be lots of fun - consider it mother- daughter bonding time." Again with the cackle she continued "With your brilliant gift for mathematics, I am sure you will be able to determine when you have earned enough, just don't forget about sales tax. "Let me see. I always hated word problems - let's estimate $50 dollars a set, 7% sales tax at 1.75 an hour I will be working? Ohmygawd, my head hurt again." Rose interrupted. "My you were a naive little boy weren't you? Sets like that are at least twice if not three times that cost" "Yes Rose I found that out, that's why it took all summer. The job didn't pay much, but I cleaned up in the overtime. I reluctantly scratch mathematician from my list of prospective careers. In the middle of my trying to do long division in my head my mother interrupted." "With your father going away on business for the next two months, I am sure we can conclude our little transaction before he returns in September." "I was in total shock now saying, Mom you can't be serious, and you're expecting me, your manly son, to go to a lingerie store?" "Yes dear we are going tonight, and I am sure it will not be the only time. You like to play soldier, just consider this a reconnaissance mission for your future adventures." "Then dummy here had to ask for clarification on my mission." "Well darling I expect you to not only go into the lingerie store, but you will make the selection, carry them to the cash register, pay for them with your own money and have them gift wrapped. Afterwards you will bring them home and formally present them to me as a token of your love. I have no intention of taking time out of my day to correct something you are responsible for. Now don't worry little one, I would not just throw you to the wolves." Ah..., a possible reprieve I thought, then she drove the knife home to the hilt and twisted it. "I will give you a complete list of my sizes and the colors and styles of bras and panties I want. All you have to do is shop." "But Mom that is not reasonable, I didn't stain the bras just the panties. Looking at the shit stained bra, I was wearing my mother laughed and said "I know dear, but I buy my underwear in sets, you ruined my sets, so I expect you to replace a complete set. Now is that settled or do we let your father decide?" Thank heavens I was in the 'gifted' program; imagine how much trouble I could have gotten into if I was just a normal troglodyte. Despite being in the exceptional program it appeared, I was a slow learner; I couldn't keep my mouth closed, I continued to argue, I rapidly claimed the crown 'King of Dumb'. "Mom that's not fair, they are only stained you can still wear them." "My dear foolish child, you still don't understand. This is not about fairness it's about teaching you a lesson. However, your grumbling has given me an idea. There is some logic to your argument. My underwear is too beautiful to throw away so I will make you a deal. As you replace a set I will give you the old ones. You may wear them until your heart's content. In fact, I insist on it. Maybe you will learn to respect other people's property." Rose still laughing managed to say "Hold the story right there I have to use the bathroom." Returning a composed Rose said, "I will bet it was the longest summer of your life." Jack, sobbing openly continues with his confession. By now the tears were streaming down his face and dripping onto the robe. Gasping for air Jack grudgingly confesses. "Rose, on the contrary it was the most glorious summer I ever had. I never wanted that summer to end. I found a side of me that was liberating. When I look back on those two months it's like an apparition emerging from a fog. I have tried to keep those wonderful memories buried, but now I just have to tell you. My father and I had always been close, even though I felt I had to continuously prove myself to him. However, I never felt anything special towards my mother. I loved her but we just had nothing in common. Well, that all changed that summer. I turned to her like a flower turns to the sun. My mother made me wear her panties, bras and aprons all summer long. We were inseparable for two straight months. I really got close to that woman. When I wasn't working we would sit for hours and just talk. She also spent evenings teaching me to sew, cook and bake. The absolute best part was Sunday mornings. We would sit on the couch and read the Sunday paper together. Mon would hand me the ads, and we would linger over the lingerie section. She would tutor me about the different styles and functions of lingerie. Then there was that one Sunday where I read an article about Princeton University and their annual drag show Hasty Pudding. From that moment on I dedicated myself to doing everything I could to get in there - the thought of performing on stage fully dressed like a woman, without anyone judging me. It sent thrills through my body." Seven years later when I got my rejection letter, I stayed in my bedroom, and cried for two days. "Of course Mother took every opportunity to tease me about my lingerie. One day she made a comment about how I didn't do her bra justice. To get her goat, the next morning I decided to show up for breakfast with my bar stuffed to overflowing with two water balloons. I skipped into the kitchen jiggling and bouncing and singing 'Tiptoe through the Tulips" and plopped down in my chair. My objective was to shock and embarrass her. The reaction I got was anything but. She laughed and then stood applauding me. She thanked me for the entertainment and wanted to know when the next floor show started. My next major mistake, I was so mad my plan had failed, I took one of the water balloons out and threw it across the room. I was aiming for the sink, but I miscalculated and forgot about the chandelier hanging over the kitchen table. The balloon erupted producing a torrential downpour, right on top of my mother. As I watched the water soaking her hair, running down her face, across her glasses and dripping into her coffee, I had the chill of foreknowledge, there would be hell to pay. Her jovial mood changed instantaneously. My lips twitched as I attempted to contain a smile, but could not help the smirk. With the air burst of my projectile, I knew I would have to learn to control my temper. There goes temper management counselor and professional baseball player from my potential career paths. Mother reacted immediately and said there would be serious consequences for my temper tantrum. I just knew asking for a layer was a mistake, but I couldn't help myself. That was the last straw, and Mother erupted telling me to clean up the mess while she went to the store. Driving at what must have been mach 3. She returned in only a matter of minutes. During that time, I prayed for my soul, because I knew my ass belonged to my mother. Then with great fanfare she presented me with a ukulele and two packages of large party balloons, pronouncing, "If we are going to do this let's do it right." From that point on the jiggling fax breast became a permanent fixture. I also had to practice playing that damn instrument until I could successfully play the Tulip song. The next day I was angry. I had spent the previous day jiggling and bouncing every time I moved. So 'Mr. Gifted Program here' made another foolhardy move. I filled the balloons with ice cold water; my logic was that cold water would have less bounce than hot. All I achieved was giving myself hypothermia. I mean what does a 12 year old know about thermodynamics? There goes another promising occupation down the tubes. I concluded the only viable career path left open to me was as a 'village idiot'. Unquestionably I had demonstrated I was fully qualified for that job. Being a slow learner but not a total imbecile, thereafter I always used warm water, as filler. Mom made me wear what she called my enhancers all summer, I was even made to sleep in them." "By the blue eyes of G-d Jack, how did you sleep with those protuberances?" asked Rose. "Actually very soundly, I would sleep on my stomach and let the motion lull me to sleep every night. The only problem was the night where I had a catastrophic failure and woke up doing the breast stroke. However, the worst part was it almost drowned poor Hanna. After that I learned to double bag my boobs." "Now wait a minute Jack, your mother had you sleeping with a girl?" "Don't be absurd Rose. Hanna was my doll!" "Damn it I am going to have to change my panties again. I have never laughed this hard. A doll, for heaven's sake, Jack go on!" "My first morning in bras and panties I woke to the alarm clock and found a 'Cabbage Patch' doll snuggled into bed with me. I know I didn't go to sleep with it, but it was there that morning." "Whoa, slow down Jack, You woke up with a doll and didn't say anything." Jack started to answer, but found no words to convey his thoughts. Eventually, he responded. "Rose my mother could be a vindictive woman. The next day was hell; I woke up and threw that stuffed doll into the trash can. I was the toughest boy in my class, and I wasn't going to be treated like a complete sissy. I would show my mother. I still had balls, even if they were encased in the most stunning lilac panties you ever saw. That was my next major mistake. Standing up to that woman was a lot like being a Spartan at the battle of Battle of Thermopylae, you can put up a good show for awhile, but the ultimate outcome is never in doubt. After all I was the toughest guy in my class. So I continued my struggle for self-respect. I had not yet begun to fight - damn the torpedoes full speed ahead!" "Oh, come on Jack, you're mixing metaphors, but aside from that I can't see you fighting anyone." "Well Rose, you are wrong there. Let me tell you I was 33 and 0 in playground fights." "Oh I am sure you were quite a pugilist, the grade school bully, now I am impressed." "Knock it off Rose, I never started any of those fights. I just finished them." "I am sorry Jack; it is just that I have always viewed you more as a lover than a fighter. I still can't see you standing up to some big Neanderthal bully." Jack gasped, with tears flowing in rivers down his cheeks, "Well actually 28 of those victories were against the same girl." "GIRL?" "Yes, a girl, a real scrapper named Kelly Ann. She was our school stickball champion four years running. She wasn't very big but was quick as a cat, had a hell of a right cross. She had the kick of a mule and the bite of a bear. Haven't you seen that scar on my bicep? I swear to Odin, she sunk her teeth into me to the bone. It took the vice- principle to pry her mouth open." "My brave Viking hero, you vanquished this poor damsel every time?" "Well she almost had me once, until I could pull her skirt over her head. I threatened to pull her panties down if she didn't give up." "Why in heavens name did you pick fights with this poor girl?" "Rose I give you my word. I never started a single one." "Then what initiated them? You must have really hated her" Au contraire, my wife, I loved her!" "Say that again!" "Yes I loved that blond nymph. Every time I tried to tell her my feelings or even worse to show her by stealing a kiss, she would slug me. After my second black eye, I decided I had to defend myself, or she was going to turn me into her personal punching bag. She could hit harder than Mohamed Ali." "But Jack, I thought you were 33 and 0. So please explain these black eyes in your astounding boxing career?" "Rose it only counts as a fight when both parties participate. It wasn't until after that second black eye and third bloody nose that I sent her packing. In fact, she went running home crying to her mommy." "Jack I don't like the idea of you beating up a girl. You didn't hit her in the face did you?" Oh please Rose; I would sooner take a felt tip pen to the Mona Lisa before I would hit her in that angelic face. Rose; let me tell you what happened. One day after about 5 minutes of me viciously assaulting her fists with my face, I had enough. I figured if you can't out fight them, you must out think them. I showed her. No one can pound on Jack Svensson without, there being serious consequences. So I taught her a lesson she never forgot. She had given me a bloody nose, so I grabbed her in a big bear hug and won't let her go until I had bled all over her new white dress. I tell you she thought twice about hitting me in the face again. Nevertheless, there were some unintended consequences to my actions. By redirecting her assaults away from my face, I was forced to make some serious modifications to my school uniform. I learned quickly to wear soccer shin guards and a cup to school full time. It wasn't very comfortable but kept me walking upright." "You could have stopped the flirting and stayed away from her, Jack." "Rose you don't understand how a boy's mind works. I was addicted to her; I could no more stay away from her than I could have stopped breathing. She was the most majestic creature to ever grace the third street playground." Rose laughingly enquires, "Whatever happened to this love of yours?" Sighing, Jack says "Her family moved away and she left school. I mourned for a year." "Anyway, back to my mother, mister tough guy here told my mother, I wasn't going to cooperate anymore. It was to become a test of wills. Mom tried every threat in the book, no allowance, a spanking, no TV, no Atari; she might have tried to undermine the Great Wall of China with a garden hose for all the good they did her. I scoffed at her threats. Mom reminded me we had a pinkie swear agreement; I conceded her point and promised I would do the chores but insisted I would not wear her underwear anymore. I also told her I now considered myself a POW. Then foolishly I pointed out to her that several of her threats were in direct violation of the Geneva Convention. I agreed to do the work but demanded a two hour break every day. I had her now I was sure. Mom gave in almost instantly, that made me suspicious, but I was flush with the sweet smell of victory. Mom disappeared into her room; I could hear her banging drawers. For the briefest of seconds I was afraid she was in there constructing a guillotine. However, what she returned with made the guillotine pale in comparison. She had found the chink in my armor. I capitulated faster than the French at the Maginot Line. The sweat smell of victory had become limburger cheese." "Oh pray tell, o mighty warrior husband of mine what is this great vulnerability of yours?" "My mother returned with her pink bikini. She informed me I would have a two hour break every day to sun bath and would do it wearing the bikini, so I wouldn't mess-up my intimates. I still stood defiant until she pointed out the problems I would face in gym class explaining away the unusual tan lines. From that point on I became the sweetest, most compliant housekeeper a woman ever had. I immediately went to my room and retrieved the doll. Then gently placing her on my bed, I christened her Hanna. She grew into my best friend before the summer was over." "Mom said she needed frequent changes of underwear so as I earned enough for one set of underwear off to the store I went. I had to go to the lingerie shop almost every other week. My first trip was nearly disastrous. I was so embarrassed I considered shop lifting. However, the gift-wrapping requirement eliminated that option. I guess I will never be a thief either. The sales ladies got to know me by sight and were always delighted to see me coming. With my long blond hair, they started calling me 'the Blond prince'. Even so, by the end of the summer, and no haircuts they ended up calling me "The Blond Princess". To my utter shame, I actually embraced my new nickname and began to look forward to my trips to the lingerie shop. I eventually took these opportunities to window shop. There were so many gorgeous things there; I still get all tingly just thinking about it." "Ohmygawd Jack that is unbelievable. How far did your mother take this? Did she ever have you wear makeup?" "No, out of curiosity I once asked if I could wear some lipstick around the house. However, she said young girls my age did not wear makeup. She did say when I was older she would take me to her b