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TRADITIONAL MARRIAGE Traditional is the adjective Jane always uses to explain our marriage. Contemporary, or perhaps even more aptly, futuristic would be a better description. It is true as she emphasizes, that one spouse is the breadwinner while the other stays at home to keep house, make the meals, and in general care for the physical needs of the working partner. It is also true that the head of the household is an exceptionally caring and loving individual, albeit strict in enforcing the authority that accompanies that office. We lead an active social life, church on Sunday, bowling every Tuesday evening, out to a club with another couple for dancing Friday or Saturday evenings, an evening of Bridge at a friend's house, or we entertain friends in our own home. The Lewises who live next door often accompany us for an evening out and we visit back and forth. They are the only other single income family on our street. Monica, with whom I coffee most days, has become my closest friend. In her opinion, having a spouse who is such a good provider and so obviously devoted to me makes my situation ideal. She wishes that her John would lavish as much love and affection on her. Actually I think that Monica is the only outsider who is aware that I am what is known in modern parlance as a 'house husband'. Sometimes I think she would like to have an affair with me, but I would certainly never do anything either to spoil our friendship or to disrupt my marriage. "What," you ask, "is special about being a house husband? Isn't it a very common situation today, whenever the male partner in a marriage is unemployed for a period of time?" Actually, I don't fit the definition of unemployed. I don't qualify for unemployment insurance. I own forty-nine per cent of the stock in an engineering company. Jane owns the other fifty-one per cent. Jane and I graduated in the same year from engineering school. She was a medal winner. I was an also-ran who ranked in the middle of the class. We were acquainted but we never dated. I would never have had the nerve to ask out such a statuesque six-foot tall beauty. In her high heels she stands a whole head over my five foot seven. We did not meet again until five years later when I applied for work with a small family-owned consulting firm. To my surprise the interview was conducted by my former classmate. She was taking over the business from her retiring father and required an assistant. To my further surprise the job became mine. Our relationship built very slowly. At first we met only at the office. Occasionally we dined together at a business lunch. Once she asked me to be her escort to a dinner given by an important client. We kissed for the first time that evening at her apartment door when I refused her invitation in for a late drink, citing the importance of being early to work the next morning. "You are such a conscientious worker," she murmured as she leaned forward to touch her lips to mine. Surprised by this unexpected intimacy I could only reply that I was sure my employer expected punctuality from me. Much later, after our marriage in fact, she confessed that she had added to herself as the door clicked shut, "And much more than that!" I did not know it then but my fate was probably already sealed. She had decided whom she wanted to marry. Nothing suddenly changed in our association. I continued to date shorter girls though without any serious entanglements. There would be an occasional request to fill in for an evening of bridge and more occasions when I would be required to escort the 'boss' lady to various affairs related to business. We even went on business trips together, sometimes by plane, and sometimes in her car or mine. Because she was head of the firm I was quite used to having the bill paid through her credit card when we were on company business. I liked Jane a lot. Were it not for the difference in our height I would probably have pursued her aggressively even back in engineering school. In the course of our normal interaction her height, or my lack of it, presented no real problem. By her manner she managed to convey to me that looking down at her companion did not upset or embarrass her, and when we were in the company of other six-footers, male or female, she always made me feel a full member of the group. One problem we did have when our business associations led to a dinner dance. Try as I might I could not seem to guide my companion smoothly around the dance floor. After several awkward attempts she came up with a novel proposal. "Why not let me lead?" she suggested. "We can keep our arms in the same position, and if it works, no one will know but us." The next number went much more smoothly and by the end of the evening, gliding about the floor together had become a genuine pleasure for both of us. A conversation we once had in the front seat of her car as she drove us to a meeting in Boston sticks in my mind. "How come such an eligible bachelor as yourself has never married?" she asked. "I suppose because I have never found exactly the right woman," I replied. "Someone as beautiful as you, but maybe not so tall, and who is willing to make me the centre of her universe. I guess intellectually I believe in women's liberation, but inside I'm pretty traditional. I don't think children should be raised by a babysitter for instance." "So you think I'm beautiful!" "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met." "But you would never date me because I'm too tall and too successful in a man's world. I guess the truth is, you're intimidated by me." "That's not true. I've never met anyone more fun to be with, but I can't imagine you being interested in a shrimp like me." "Why not try me sometime?" she challenged and then changed the subject. Our first social event not related to the business occurred when I invited her to fill in for an absentee member of my mixed bowling team. She seemed to enjoy herself thoroughly, both at the alley and afterwards as the team had coffee together. "Thank you for a wonderful time. It was fun being with you when we didn't have to think of business," she said later and rewarded me with another brief touch of her lips to mine when I delivered her back to the door of her apartment. The passionate kiss we shared at her apartment door as we parted after the first evening of dancing to which I invited her convinced me that our friendship might well grow into a lasting commitment. From then on, more and more of our free time was spent together. It took another month before I finally popped the question. She made me wait another day for her answer and delivered it only after making clear that, much as she loved me, she would continue to pursue her career and would not become a stay-at-home wife. If I could accept that, she would do her best to be as traditional as possible in all else. The kiss which sealed our bargain was deep and passionate and seemed destined to lead to further physical intimacy. I learned however that traditional also meant that I would not share Jane's bed until after the marriage ceremony. For the next several weeks we spent all our spare time together. We visited real estate agencies and looked at innumerable houses before choosing our own suburban bungalow. I followed her into countless furniture stores until we agreed on just how to fill each room in our future home. My opinion was solicited before a decision was made about the patterns for chinaware and silver. At the office we made careful plans so that the business could function acceptably without its president (Jane) for the scheduled period of our honeymoon. For practical reasons neither of us wanted a large wedding. Jane, in particular, felt that the business would suffer if she had to devote large amounts of time to the details of an elaborate ceremonial affair. The two of us would merely appear before a judge for a simple ceremony and then set off on our honeymoon. We were both unprepared for the pressure exerted on us by our respective families. Our mothers in particular, demanded the right to see their children married in 'proper style'. Jane and I remained adamant in our position but a compromise of sorts was finally agreed to. There would be a prenuptial party held the night before our wedding. We agreed to do exactly as required at the party, In the words of my mother this was to be, 'Without any backtalk'. The two mothers proposed to take total charge of the arrangements, promising not to bother us with any of the details whatsoever. They kept to their word, asking of us only a list of whom to invite. We learned from the invitations that the party would take the form of a mock wedding, a feminist mock wedding to be precise. CHAPTER 2 At office closing time on the appointed day, each mother arrived to claim her respective offspring in preparation for the festivity. Docilely I accompanied my mother to my apartment where she had been staying with me for the past week. Here I was given a tuxedo and a complete new set of clothes, from shoes to underwear, and instructed to dress while she changed in the other room. An hour later, she in her long gown and I in my tuxedo climbed into a limousine driven by one of my cousins for a drive across town to pick up Jane's longtime friend from high school days. My mother introduced me to this attractive girl, also clad in a long gown, with the words, "John, I'd like you to meet Helen. She is to be your bridesmaid tonight." I was mystified when, instead of us descending from the car at the entrance to the hall, our driver was sent in to inquire if everything was ready for our arrival. It was about fifteen minutes before he returned to say that we could now enter the lobby. Here a wedding bouquet was handed to Helen and a larger one handed to my mother, who instructed me that when the wedding march started we would parade to the front of the hall, arm in arm, behind Helen. What was even more startling was that after the organ had begun and just as Helen was about to step through the door, I was ordered to clasp my hands together at my waist, and my mother's bouquet was transferred to me. She raised her right hand to grasp my elbow and we began that agonizingly slow walk to the front of the hall. My face reddened as the standing audience burst into laughter on seeing my entrance. The grip on my elbow was unrelenting as if there was worry that I might bolt and run. We were almost to the front before I lifted my eyes from the floor in front of me to see Jane, elegantly dressed in a full length white satin wedding gown, standing at the front beside a tuxedo clad man. They were facing forward toward a woman clad in ecclesiastical robes, but Jane had twisted her upper body so she could observe my approach. The smile on her face seemed to give me courage and I continued the slow march until I was standing in my place at her side, with Helen on my left and my mother slightly behind. The hall quieted and the woman facing us began to intone the familiar words, "Dearly beloved ------" and so on. I remember thinking that she was sticking remarkably close to the regular words, and being surprised when no one in the audience objected before being told to forever hold their peace. Woman was placed before man wherever the two words occurred together but otherwise the liturgy sounded very straightforward, not the parody that I expected in a mock ceremony. No one laughed when my mother answered, "I do," in a clear voice to the question, "Who gives this man to be married to this woman." I could hear the rustle of her skirt as she took her seat behind us. The mock clergyman turned her attention to me, intoned my full name and continued, "Do you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife, (dramatic pause) to love, honour, cherish, and obey her, so long as you both shall live." I started to answer but at first no sound came forth. Female laughter filled the hall as I finally looked toward Jane and gasped out my, "I do." In her turn Jane was only asked to love, honour, and cherish, and keep me only to herself, to which she replied with a clearly enunciated, "I do." The ring was produced on cue and handed by the presiding woman to Jane. I was required to hand my bouquet to the bridesmaid and hold out my left hand while Jane placed the ring on my finger, at the same time repeating the words, "With this ring I thee wed." The ceremony concluded with the declaration, "I now pronounce you husband and wife." There was a slight pause before she added, "You may now kiss the bride." I looked up into Jane's eyes as her lips approached mine and we melted into each others' arms. The general buzz of conversation from the audience impaired my hearing a bit as we broke for air, but the next words I heard were, "Give him back his bouquet. Now take your bride's arm, Jane, and follow me into the study." Once inside we were seated around a small table and asked to sign an official looking document. "Your mothers wanted everything to seem very realistic," we were told, "and you will be given this certificate as a keepsake." When all had signed we stood once more and lined up again to parade through the hall in quick time to the strains of the organ. Confetti rained down on us as, bouquet in hand and elbow clasped tightly by Jane, I was led twice around the room. We had an interval of relative calm in an adjoining room while a photographer arranged us in various poses. In some of the pictures Jane held the bouquet and we lined up as a traditional wedding party. In one, even a footstool was provided so that my head came even with hers. In another, she sat on a chair with me standing at her side. All pictures were posed also with the main players reversed. Next we formed a reception line to greet the guests individually as they entered the dining room. When all were seated we paraded once more, this time to our places at the head table. Jane held my chair for me before seating herself at my side behind an enormous wedding cake. During the meal we rose on cue to kiss as spoons rattled against plates. Jane was required to reply to the 'Toast to the Bride', while I sat red-faced in my place. For the dancing which followed dinner, the announcement was made that the ladies would choose their partners, and that the ladies would lead on the dance floor. Everyone stood back to watch as Jane put her arm around me and guided us smoothly through the first number. For the next two hours I was not left to sit out a single dance and must have stepped backwards the equivalent of a hundred times around the hall. About eleven P.M. Jane and I were taken in hand by our respective mothers, led off to separate rooms, and ordered to change into street clothes, while they packed away the wedding finery. Back in the hall I was ordered to carry out the traditional tossing of the bridal bouquet, after which Jane was handed her car keys and ordered to drive us to her apartment, where we were told a surprise awaited us. We continued to play the parts expected of us as she led me to the car, opened the door and closed it after me before walking around to let herself in the driver's seat. When we pulled up to park before entering her apartment, I waited for her to come round and open my door before stepping out of the car. We laughed together over the experiences of the evening as we rode the elevator and walked along the corridor. Our kiss at the entrance to her apartment was deep and satisfying. CHAPTER 3 Inside the apartment we found no sign of the surprise which both mothers had insisted was awaiting us there. I accepted Jane's suggestion that I prepare a pot of coffee while she carried out a thorough search of every room, but nothing was revealed. As we sat drinking our coffee, it was decided that I would borrow her car to drive myself home for the night and would meet her again in the morning, in time for the official ceremony at city hall at ten A.M. I was standing up, preparing to leave, when she noticed that there was a message waiting on her telephone answering machine. It was from her mother. "Hi, Dear. Don't expect me in tonight. I've arranged to spend the night with John's mother at his apartment. By the way, if you wish to know what your surprise is, call John over to the telephone and I will tell you both. "Jean, who conducted the ceremony and acted as mistress of ceremonies tonight is a justice of the peace, legally qualified to conduct marriages in this state, and the papers you signed were from the licence you obtained last week at city hall. So you really are officially married! By the way, we cancelled your appointment with the judge for tomorrow morning." The remaining words were congratulations from each mother in turn but we scarcely heard them as we turned to embrace each other. "Well, Honey, I guess we'll be sleeping here tonight. You're the bride, so you get to shower first. Then hop into bed and wait for me." "But that's not right. You be first." "No. At the ceremony you were the bride, so you will be first. I insist." My wife was showing a stubborn streak that I would not have anticipated. "You will find a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet." "I haven't anything to wear." "I'll find you something and hang it inside the door. Now mush." Five minutes later I stepped from the shower to find my clothes removed from the bathroom and in their place a white satin gown and high-heeled satin slippers. "Jane," I called, "I can't wear this. Haven't you at least got a pair of pyjamas?" "Yes, but they're not white, and since you are the bride, I want you to wear white. It would be bad luck to break with tradition. Hurry up now. The sooner you're in bed, the sooner I'll be able to join you." Reluctantly I complied with her wishes. The soft touch of the gown as it slid down over my body felt so erotic that an erection began even before I donned the slippers. Unsteady on the high heels and half bent over to reduce the lump showing in my groin, I made it to the bedroom and crawled under the covers, very conscious of the feel of silk about my body. "All right! I'm in bed. I'm waiting for you!" "Don't fall asleep now, while I take my shower. I'll be as fast as I can," she answered. My erection was still rock hard when she entered the bedroom, clad in blue satin pyjamas. I lay on my side trying to conceal the extent of my arousal. She bent down over the side of the bed and kissed me lightly on the lips while one hand reached down and felt my erection right through the covers. "I'll be back in a moment to take care of that," she said as she turned away to find the light switch. As she crawled in beside me she whispered, "Did you notice they even changed the bed and put on fresh satin sheets?" I reached out to put my arms around her but she grasped both my wrists and placed them back at my sides. "Honey, you are supposed to be a timid virgin bride. Lie back quietly and let your big strong bridegroom set the pace." I acquiesced reluctantly as she made me roll over on my back while she rested on one elbow so that she could reach my face for a kiss or a nibble on my ear. With her other hand she caressed my body through the silken gown. She kept me roused to a fever pitch for the longest time while refusing to allow me to caress her in return. At last she lifted my skirt above my erection and whispered in my ear, "You can lower my pyjama bottoms now." When her legs were free she rose on her knees, straddled my hips, and began to lower herself onto my swollen manhood. As I slipped inside her she whispered again in a strained voice, "Oh, John, I didn't realize it could possibly be so good. Thank you. Thank you, my bride." Our hips rocked back and forth as my sperm spilled into her. Then we rolled on one side and lay in each others' arms as our ecstasy gradually faded and we drifted off to sleep. At seven in the morning, I wakened to find myself once more lying on my back with Jane's fingers exploring my silk-clad body. "I'm glad you're awake," she exclaimed as her lips once more approached mine. "And I love your sexy body," she added a few moments later as her hand gently rubbed against my erect shaft. Our previous lovemaking was almost exactly duplicated, except that we held out longer before our rapture began to fade. At eight, Jane was still breathing deeply as I slipped out of bed, pulled on my high heeled slippers, donned the matching negligee which I found on the chair beside the bed, and headed for the kitchen to start preparing breakfast. I had almost finished frying the bacon and eggs when Jane slipped up behind me and tied an apron around my waist. I turned my head to receive a light kiss before continuing with my task. Five minutes later, she returned from the bathroom and we sat down together for the first breakfast of our married life. Afterwards, if Jane had had her way, we would have ended up back in bed. Instead, at my insistence, we showered and dressed so we could leave on our planned wedding trip. CHAPTER 4 One thing marred the beginning of our honeymoon trip. My wallet had disappeared. I was almost certain I had had it with me the previous evening, but when no sign of it could be found, even back in my own apartment where we stopped to pick up my suitcase, we decided to report it lost or stolen and cancel the credit cards. "It won't be a problem," said Jane, "I have money and credit cards and I'll be able to drive since I still have my licence. We'd be in real trouble though, if I lost my purse too." Reluctantly I surrendered the driving to Jane, yielding to her argument that our honeymoon would be spoiled if I were jailed for not being able to produce a driver's licence. I was able to withdraw enough money from my bank account to cover minor cash needs during our trip, but agreed that her credit cards would have to be used for major expenses like our hotel bills. Jane's streak of stubborn determination was revealed once more just before she started the car to begin our trip. I pulled the wedding band off my finger and asked for her hand to slip it on hers. She refused abruptly and bluntly. "That ring went on your finger during our wedding ceremony and there it is going to stay," she declared, "unless you want our marriage to come to an end right now. If you love me you will continue to wear it." Taken aback, I asked, "Should I buy you a matching ring then?' "You can if you like, though it won't mean much, since we didn't have a double ring ceremony." It was clear from her tone of voice that she would rather I not buy one for her. Her opinion became crystal clear when she added, "I'd really prefer that you didn't." I changed the subject to avoid the possibility of provoking a confrontation. Our day passed pleasantly but as we neared the hotel where we were to spend the night, I was puzzled about how to handle the formality of registering under my name while using a credit card made out in Jane's maiden name. After some hesitation I agreed to go along with her proposed solution, which she described as follows. "I have one credit card which is made out without a first name. They just sent me a replacement card made out to J Campbell. I haven't even signed it yet. If you signed it with that name and registered us in the hotel as Mr. and Mrs. J. Campbell there would be no need to explain anything to the hotel clerk." Over the next two weeks I became quite used to signing that name in hotel dining rooms to charge our dinner to our room and for any other transaction where credit was required. As we settled into our room for the first night, my status of the previous evening as 'bride' seemed to be forgotten and we adopted a more traditional behaviour for a newly married couple. I took the lead in the bedroom with what I felt was reasonable success. Next day we continued on our journey toward Niagara Falls with me again sitting in the passenger seat. Travel, sightseeing, and buying souvenirs occupied most of our daytime hours as our holiday continued. In the evenings we dined, went to a movie, or watched television in our room. Our time in bed together was satisfying if not spectacular for me, and I felt I was bringing pleasure to Jane. Near the end of our first week of marriage, Jane led the way into a lingerie shop. I followed hesitantly when she refused my offer to wait in the car. My opinion was sought as she selected two full length satin nightdresses, a matching negligee and high heeled open-backed slippers. I was dispatched to the cash register to pay for these purchases with the charge card while she made some further selections of 'intimate apparel' about which I was not consulted. I have heard it said that patterns of dominance in a marriage are established during the honeymoon. That evening was to prove crucial in our relationship. It began rather innocently after we had been shown to our suite in a luxurious hotel. The idea of a suite rather than a simple room had been proposed by Jane as she stood beside me at the registration desk. I had only agreed reluctantly, being concerned about whether our resources could support such extravagance. As the door closed behind the bellhop, she stepped over to me, put her arms around me, and initiated a deep kiss. My head bent back to cope with her superior height. As our lips parted she asked urgently, "Oh, Darling! Do you realize what day this is?" Pleased by her kiss but puzzled by her question, I could only confess my ignorance. "Why Dearheart, this is our anniversary! We have been married a whole week." "It's been a wonderful week." "And I know just how to celebrate. You leave everything to me." She seated me in an easy chair and from her suitcase produced a bottle of champagne. As we sat sipping from the glasses she poured, she announced some of the details of her celebration plan. The first step was to be a full course dinner ordered from room service. As we sat talking, we or at least I, consumed more champagne than enough and began to feel giddy. Just before the expected arrival of our meal she suggested that I should shower and change in preparation for the evening. Thus I was in the bathroom when the waiter laid the table and set everything out for us to eat. I stepped from the shower and towelled myself dry to discover that Jane had once more taken my clothes and replaced them with what she considered suitable for a 'bride'. To my protests, she replied through the door that, "Brides are always nervous on their wedding day and this is a reenactment of ours. Of course you have to dress in the same way as on our wedding night! Have you shaved yet?" "Yes," I admitted. "Then hurry up and dress before our dinner gets cold." Another look at the clothes hanging on the back of the door prompted my next question. "Why do I need panties and a bra?" "That's so your gown will hang properly, --- so it will bulge only in the proper places." "Well, I think the whole idea is silly!" "Silly or not I promise to make it worth your while." Recognizing her determination, I pulled on the stretchy bikini style panties, arranged my privates comfortably, and turned my attention to the difficult task of clipping a lacy bra in place. When that was accomplished I tucked the pair of surgical bust pads in the cups and turned to look at my image in the mirror. The illusion which I faced looked more realistic than I was prepared to admit to myself. I stepped into the high-heeled slippers. The added height seemed to contribute more reality to my reflection. The erotic thrill of a week before was repeated as the silk and lace gown settled around my body, but my erection was held in check by the bikini panties. In the mirror I admired the way the lacy bodice draped over my artificial breasts as I tied the waist strings of the gown. "You're being very quiet. Are you dressed yet?" called out Jane. "Just finished," I answered as I lifted the negligee from its hook and slipped it on. The feeling of silk sliding against silk was delicious as I fastened the front buttons. I was still admiring my likeness in the mirror as the door opened to admit Jane. "Yes that is a lovely outfit you chose this afternoon," she began. "You certainly do have wonderful taste!" "I thought I was choosing nightclothes for you." "That's funny. We bought everything in your size. Don't you notice how much better everything fits than what you wore last week?" Before I could reply she raised her hands to place a blond shoulder length wig on my head, then picked up a brush and proceeded to adjust the soft curls which now framed my face and neck. "Now, just a touch of lipstick and you're ready for the evening," she added as she drew a shiny tube from her jacket pocket. Moments later I was escorted to the table, a chair was held for me, and I was instructed how to hold my skirts as I sat down. Jane seated herself at the other end of the table and our meal began. "Does the hotel know about the candlelight?" I asked as I gazed across the table at my wife, elegantly dressed in a black silk velvet pantsuit with white satin blouse and red ascot. Jane thought it unnecessary, but I insisted on repairing to the bathroom while the dishes were collected by room service. When we were alone again we danced to music from the radio. Oh, how I enjoyed feeling my silken skirts swirl around my legs as she swept me around the room! How I enjoyed also to be cradled in her arms as we held each other tight during the slow pieces. I was like putty in her hands as she at last led me into the bedroom, unbuttoned my negligee, folded back the bed covers, sat me on the edge of the bed, and stooped to lift my legs onto the mattress. She tucked the covers around me before stepping aside to slip out of her clothes and into her silk pyjamas. I lay on the bed watching her beautiful body as she changed. When she crawled into bed beside me she insisted once more that I should lie passively, while she explored my silk clad body with her hands, as her lips alternated between deep kisses and nibbles at my ear or throat. When finally she raised my skirt and pulled down my bikini panties before lowering herself onto me, my passion was raised to its highest pitch yet. "Oh, thank you, my lover!" I murmured as our excitement began to abate. "My Darling," she whispered in response, "that was the best yet! I so like to have you this way." I pondered her words as I drifted off to sleep. The morning began with another lovemaking session initiated by Jane. When we rose she urged that I wear my negligee and wig until we had finished breakfast from room service.I refused her request for my lipstick to be freshened. When we dressed to leave she insisted that the gown, negligee, and accessories be packed in my suitcase. "That way you'll be able to surprise me some evening," she suggested. CHAPTER 5 The second week of our honeymoon slipped by quickly and almost before I realized it we were nearing home. It was after dark when we arrived, not at her apartment or mine, but rather at the house on which we had made an offer before the wedding. To my question about why we were stopping there she answered, "It's my surprise for you. My lawyer completed the deal while we were away. It's our house now?" "But you didn't tell me," I protested. "I wanted to surprise you." "I'd rather have been consulted." "But we did choose it together. Stop pouting now and let's look inside. Hold on until I get the car door for you." She took my hand as I stepped from the car and I joined her at the house door. She inserted the key and then turned toward me. "Welcome home, Darling," she said and drew me toward her for a passionate kiss. As our lips parted she reached down with one arm to grasp me around the knees and I found myself lifted into the air and carried over the threshold. Inside the house I was set gently down and the kiss was renewed. It was impossible for me to stay angry. Together we toured the empty house. Another surprise awaited me in the master bedroom. Jane had arranged for the furniture from her apartment bedroom to be transferred during our absence. I felt a tinge of remorse as I thought about how hard she had tried to surprise and please me, and how disappointed she must feel about my reaction. "I'll bring in the bags," I announced suddenly and rushed out to do so. Back in the house I deposited her bag in the bedroom and took my own into the bathroom. "I'll be ready in ten minutes," I called out as the door closed behind me. I had decided how to go about showing appreciation for Jane's planned surprise. When the bathroom door opened again twelve and a half minutes later I stepped out slowly on my high-heeled slippers, wig carefully combed, gloss on my lips, and with gown and negligee covering my disguised figure. "Darling I'm ready to be carried over the final threshold," I called out. Jane took one look, then swept me up in her arms. With my knees raised to the level of my waist I was cradled against her and she smiled down tenderly at me before bending her head to bring our lips together. "You are the sweetest bride any woman could have," she declared before carrying me through the bedroom doorway and depositing me gently on the bed. My intuition about how to please her had certainly been correct. Once more she set the pace as for the first time we achieved sexual fulfilment in our new home. CHAPTER 6 I was amenable to her suggestion next morning that I should spend the day at the house to handle the deliveries as our newly ordered furniture arrived, while she, in deference to her position as president of the company, returned to the office. Monica from next door, who rang our doorbell about ten-thirty, was visibly disappointed to have a male open the door, but she rallied to extend her coffee invitation to me in place of my wife. We sat chatting in her kitchen for half an hour while watching through the windows for the next deliveryman to arrive. At noon she was back at our door with sandwiches, which we shared at our newly delivered kitchen table. It was at her insistence that I phoned the office to advise Jane of the supper invitation now thrust upon us. In the afternoon I took a taxi to my former apartment, collected my car and some of my possessions, and returned to greet Jane as she arrived from work. An hour later we met Monica's husband and enjoyed a home-cooked meal and an evening of pleasant conversation. In the morning, Saturday, we made several trips to bring more possessions from our respective apartments, went shopping for groceries, worked together to arrange our new furniture, and in general prepared our home to be lived in. Our lunch was sandwiches, and we ordered in a pizza for supper. Following church on Sunday we ate out, but after an afternoon drive we shared the task of cooking our first dinner in our new home. The new week began with me still tied to the house to attend to additional deliveries and the arrival of various workmen, from the cable company, the telephone company, carpet installers, and etc. Coffee with Monica became a daily habit and I sought her advice about a number of household tasks. Except for Wednesday evening when Jane and I attended a dinner meeting connected with the business, it fell to me to prepare and serve breakfast and dinner. Lunchtime, when I would eat a sandwich alone, was usually brightened by a phone call from Jane, who lunched at the office. I looked forward to Friday, when I was scheduled to return to my duties with the firm. At supper on Thursday Jane expressed disappointment that the meal was not being served by her 'Bride' on this the third 'anniversary' of our wedding. I protested that a negligee was hardly suitable wear for preparing and serving a meal, but agreed to change afterward, while Jane filled the dishwasher. I hardly knew how to react to her desire to continue this bizarre tradition. Nevertheless the enhanced sexual excitement that went with it made me a not unwilling participant, and I spent most of the evening lying on the chesterfield, my bewigged head on Jane's lap, while her fingers caressed me through layers of silk as we watched television together. Later, in bed, she interrupted our progress toward sexual ecstasy to surprise me with a good news-bad news announcement. The good news was that she had purchased her father's share of the company and then, as sole owner, had transferred forty-nine per cent to me. The bad news was that the dividend checks would be made out to J. Campbell and I would have to sign that name to cash them. With the announcement made, our love-making resumed, and she directed it once more to an explosive climax. The next day, for the first time in a month, I returned to the office. Reorienting myself to the job proved more difficult than I expected. Many of the tasks I had been performing had been reassigned to others during my absence. The accumulation of a number of frustrations led me in mid- afternoon to confront Jane in her office. Her rejection of my claims was brusque and direct as well as shocking to me. Anger clouded her face as she responded. "You may be my spouse and a partner in the firm, but I am still president of this company and I will not tolerate anyone, including you, storming into my office to protest my decisions. We'll discuss your concerns later! --- At my convenience." Her convenience came as we were having supper in a small restaurant and I received an abject apology. "Oh, John, you arrived in my office just as the negotiations for the Anderson contract were reaching a critical stage," she added in explanation. I accepted her apology without reservation, but a somewhat tense atmosphere continued between us during the weekend. We were both afraid that some minor incident would provoke another outburst, and I began to dread the return to work on Monday morning. I think I was the one who finally proposed a solution to our dilemma, little knowing what the long- term outcome would be. When I suggested that I leave the firm's employ and seek a job elsewhere, Jane accepted my offer regretfully but without hesitation. "I'm so relieved," she exclaimed, "that there won't be a chance for our work to come between us. You are the most wonderful spouse that any executive could ever have!" I remember noticing her choice of the words spouse and executive. The bargain was sealed with a kiss. I did return to the office for the next four days, but my time was taken up with ensuring a smooth transfer of my duties to others. At Jane's suggestion my office was not totally emptied out, but kept for the occasional time in the future when I might attend in my role as a director in the firm. In mid-afternoon of my final day, behind my closed office door, I received a deep kiss from Jane, the first ever on company premises. "Why not go home early today and prepare a supper we can share to celebrate our fourth 'anniversary'?" she asked. Anxious to maintain her mood of friendly intimacy, I was soon in the grocery store, and not long after in our kitchen poring over the instructions in a cookbook. Jane phoned before leaving the office, telling me of a parcel she wished me to open before her arrival. She refused to name the contents of the package, but did say it was something very suitable for a private dinner with one's spouse. I was quite reluctant to comply with her wishes about dressing for dinner, but at the same time thrilled by her beautiful present. When she arrived home a half hour later I was again arrayed in my lace and satin gown, but the negligee had been replaced by a long-sleeved, full-skirted dressing gown of heavy white satin with wide collar, close-fitting cuffs, and large buttons. I had also experimented with the nail polish I found in the box. She showed her delight in my appearance with a passionate embrace, bending my head back for her tongue to probe between my painted lips. She stopped to examine the polished nails before taking a corsage from a small parcel and pinning it just above my false bosom. She returned from her shower wearing her black silk velvet pantsuit, to find our best china laid out on a lace tablecloth and the table lit with candles. To judge from her favourable comments, my efforts in the kitchen had been very successful and her appreciation caused me a glow of satisfaction. She addressed me as her 'bride' during our time of togetherness, and once again our evening was capped by the lovemaking, orchestrated by her, which exceeded anything I had brought about during the previous week. On Monday morning I had to learn the use of nail polish remover before beginning my quest for employment, a quest which was to last over a month, and intermittently after that. My difficulties were all caused by the fact that Jane was president of Campbell and Campbell. Local firms perceived me as having a conflict of interest for being married to a competitor and the jobs which were offered further afield would of course cause us to be separated for periods of time, a prospect which I was not prepared to accept. Early in my search, Jane suggested that I take a day off to prepare dinner for Monica and her husband to repay their hospitality on our first day in our new house. The dinner was a complete success. Jane presided as if she had prepared everything, and I was alluded to only as a big help to her. In reality I had done everything, from buying the groceries to baking the roast and setting the table. All references to my occupation mentioned my status as a partner in the firm. Monica assisted Jane to load the dishes in the dishwasher. We played Bridge during the evening, followed by a lunch of tea and more of the cake which I had baked in the afternoon. When our guests departed, I added the teacups to the load in the dishwasher and measured in the soap before turning on the machine and heading for the bedroom. Laid out on the bed were my panties, bra, and nightgown. As she crawled into bed beside me Jane whispered her thanks that I had taken her hint and donned my 'bridal regalia'. "I do so want to reward you for doing such a wonderful job of making dinner," she added as she caressed me through my silken gown. "You have certainly succeeded in thanking me!" I whispered in response as we drifted off to sleep after an exhilarating climax. Jane was so impressed with my culinary skills that she issued dinner invitations to others of our friends. In each case the pattern was similar. I did the preparatory work, she presided at the meal, no reference was made of my unemployment, and my status as a partner in the firm was always emphasized. On the departure of our guests I was invariably offered the opportunity to pose as Jane's satin clad 'bride' and receive the reward of unsurpassed sexual arousal. CHAPTER 7 As my quest for employment dragged on without success there were more and more days on which my car did not leave the driveway. Whenever this happened Monica would phone, inviting me for coffee or accepting my return invitation. She was a ready source of household hints as more and more of the care of our home fell on my shoulders. At the end of three months I had virtually ceased job hunting out of discouragement and was bemoaning my fate one evening to Jane. She showed no sympathy. "Let's face it," she argued. "You have turned down three perfectly good jobs that I know of. You're just afraid to admit that you prefer to stay home. I think you would like me to order you to stay home and keep house." "Order me! What do you mean?" "Just what I said. Surely you realize that you have obeyed every suggestion I've made since we have been married." "What suggestions?" "You signed my credit card and used it, you stayed home to accept the deliveries after we moved in, you accepted a bank account in the name of John Campbell, you left the firm to make things easier for me, you have done most of the housekeeping in our new home, you have cooked dinners for our friends, and of course you have always humoured me when I want you to be my 'bride'." "But it was my idea to leave the firm. I only did it to make things easier for you. And everything else was just to please you." "And it did. And it still does." "Maybe I should get my old job back." "Not on your life! One thing I will not do, is risk our marriage that way." This was said so vehemently that I was reminded of her outburst that day when I had interrupted her in her office. "I do not want people to perceive me as married to a milquetoast, and since I am the boss there, it would be obvious to everyone how you would have to pussyfoot around to avoid offending me." "Don't people get that impression from me staying home?" "Who knows how you spend your time? You are a partner in the firm. Your desk, chair, and filing cabinet are still in the office where you left them. I haven't told anyone you don't work there, not even our next-door neighbours." I was struck by the truth of this last statement as she went on. "You could do us both a real service by accepting full responsibility for the house." "I don't see how I would be doing myself a service." "Don't you love me?" "Of course, but I don't see what that has to do with it." "Doesn't loving me mean you like to please me?" "Well, --- yes, --- I suppose so." "There's your answer then. Suppose we make this arrangement for a trial period, say one year. That will let us both know whether we can make it work. Is that a deal?" "All right it's a deal. Just for six months though." Suddenly I found myself being lifted into the air in Jane's arms. For the second time in our marriage she picked me up bodily. My arms went around her neck as she pressed her lips against mine. "Darling I love you," she murmured between kisses as she continued to cradle me in her arms. "Would you please be my bride again for this evening?" "You'll have to put me down if you expect me to change my clothes." For answer she carried me into the bedroom and sat me on the bench in front of the dressing table. From a drawer she took panties and a bra and handed them to me. "Put these on and go into the bathroom for a quick shave." A few moments later I was standing at the sink in my high-heeled slippers, wearing only the panties and bra she had handed me. She entered the open door just as I was about to put the razor away. She took the razor from my hand and ordered peremptorily, "Step up on the toilet seat." "What for?" "You'll see. Just do it." "But I don't want my legs shaved," I protested as she completed a razor stroke from my thigh to my ankle. "How do you know? You've never tried it. Turn around so I can do the back." Given time to think, I would probably have refused point-blank, but instead I obeyed her orders, albeit reluctantly. "Doesn't that feel smooth?" she asked as she ran her hand along my calf and up my thigh. "Now, let's do the other leg." When she finished she had me sit again while she filled a bowl with water and knelt down to give me a pedicure. It felt wonderful to have my calluses softened and scraped and my nails trimmed. She applied a coating of colourless nail polish and commented, "On special occasions we'll use colour, but for now you can just leave this on for the coming week." Soon I was again arrayed in nightgown and negligee, wig in place, and my lips coloured. Jane made a special point of caressing my smooth legs through my silken skirts as we cuddled on the chesterfield, and once more she carried me bodily into the bedroom before completing my seduction in our marital bed. CHAPTER 8 My definite commitment to care for the household for the next several months, relieved the sense of worry about the future which had been plaguing me, and I relaxed considerably. I no longer felt guilty about having morning coffee with Monica and usually did so about three times a week. One morning each week I habitually went to the grocery store and a second morning was spent at the office, just keeping abreast of happenings in the business world. This had the advantage of permitting me to discuss Jane's problems and worries intelligently with her when she felt the need of someone to confide in. Our social life continued to expand and besides our bowling, dinner invitations from friends, evenings at the theatre, or dancing, I was called upon at least once a week and sometimes oftener to prepare a dinner in our home for guests. In my time alone at home I learned efficiency in operating the vacuum cleaner, making the bed, dusting, doing the wash, ironing, and all the myriad other tasks which are involved in keeping house. I became so proficient that most afternoons there was time left to watch soaps on the television. Jane was ever appreciative of my efforts, making sure to thank me in private, and saying nothing in public that she thought might embarrass me. At least one evening per week she would reserve for just the two of us, insisting that I be her 'bride' from dinnertime until she left for work after breakfast next morning. Most often also when we came in late, or after company had left, I would enter the bedroom to find a gown laid out on the bed. My accepting her implied invitation always resulted in that extra special love experience to which she had made me addicted. It became the norm for her breakfast to be served by a negligee clad spouse who received a final good-bye kiss at the door as she departed for work. I would then quickly dress in my masculine clothes in case of an unexpected caller during the day. Jane saw to it that our weekly 'anniversary' evenings remained exciting by introducing new variations in the dress expected of me. The week after she shaved my legs I opened a gift-wrapped parcel to find a flowered silk close fitting knee-length nightdress, sheer pantyhose, and a bottle of Nair. When I emerged from the bathroom with my nyloned knees showing beneath my silk skirt she required that I parade back and forth across the room while she admired my figure. A week later costume jewellery was added to my attire, necklace, bracelet, and clip-on earrings. she waited until she was pulling my pantyhose down at bedtime to clip a tiny gold chain around my ankle. It contained a miniscule disk inscribed with her name and I was instructed to wear it at all times under my regular clothes. Another evening she began to experiment with cosmetics on my face. I was initiated into the mysteries of moisture cream, pancake makeup, eye shadow, and mascara. I did not permit her to go as far as she wanted in plucking my eyebrows. Now came a gift-wrapped parcel containing a lace-trimmed slip, a sleeveless yellow sundress, and dancing pumps. That evening the hair under my armpits came off. As new items continued to be added weekly to my special wardrobe, skirt and blouse, lady's wristwatch, pantie-girdle, more lingerie, and more shoes, the process of preparing for a weekly 'anniversary' celebration became more onerous. I would have to start in the late afternoon while the dinner was cooking to coat my legs and underarms with Nair, which would dry as I shaved my face. I'd emerge from the shower to towel and powder myself, then sit in panties and bra before the bedroom dressing table while applying polish to fingernails and toes. When that had dried, sleek pantyhose would be drawn up each leg to the knee and I would stand to smooth them around my thighs and over my hips. I delighted in running my hands up and down along the smooth length of my nylon clad legs. Perhaps a pantie-girdle would come next, flattening the line of my stomach while it narrowed my waist and obliterated any trace of a bulge in my groin. I always enjoyed the feeling of a full slip sliding over my torso to excite my skin with its silky touch, and the appearance of its lacy bodice draping so enticingly over my false breasts. A semi-opaque ruffled crepe blouse with cap sleeves and a button at the back of the neck alluringly allowed my slip straps and lace trim to be just barely discernible through its tissue-thin fabric. As I zipped up the back of a slim tapered skirt I would turn and lift one knee to see in the mirror the lace hem of my slip peeking out from the side slit of the skirt. Seated again before the mirror, I would tie a makeup cape around my neck and apply the cosmetics as I had been taught. Finally, after the application of eyeshadow and mascara, I would place my wig on my head, comb it, and apply the final touch, lip gloss. Jane's delight with my appearance would be evident from the moment I greeted her at the door as she arrived from work. How I thrilled to have her hold me at arm's length examining my transformation, before clasping me to her breast for a kiss of greeting! I would pour her a glass of wine to sip, while I made final preparations to serve dinner. We would dine, usually by candlelight. She would read the newspaper while I cleared away the meal as the prelude to our quiet evening together. Perhaps we would merely watch television, seated side by side, with her arm around me and a hand caressing my knee. We might even just sit next to each other and read, with the stereo playing soft music. Often we would dance together. She liked to photograph me in various poses, and we filled an album with the results. Whatever our activity, it invariably ended with her undressing me for bed, or with me practising a seductive manner of changing to my nightclothes, with her as an appreciative audience. I would then be treated to her striptease as she prepared to join me in bed. Each week I looked forward more eagerly to the thrill which I received from my masquerade. Jane's reaction to it capped each occasion by a passionate orgy of sex which she never failed to orchestrate. As she no doubt intended I became addicted to our weekly 'anniversary' celebrations. Just how addicted I was becoming started to be evident to me on the mornings after, as I would dawdle over changing to my normal attire after wearing my nightgown and negligee to the door to see Jane off to work. I genuinely disliked putting away my finery and wished for an excuse to continue the masquerade. Certainly that was impracticable. A tradesman or a salesman might call and certainly Monica would expect coffee with me about ten-thirty. Reluctantly I would scrub off the last traces of makeup, apply the remover to my nails, don BVD's, shirt, trousers, socks and oxfords, change to my masculine watch, replace the wig on its stand, and store the remaining paraphernalia of femininity in drawers and cupboards. Nightdress, negligee, panties, and bra would find a place in the clothes closet, available for ready access whenever the opportunity might arise. I began to be disturbed about my developing addiction to things feminine on the evening that Jane suggested we might take in a movie together, with me dressed as her girlfriend. I adamantly refused to leave our house except as her husband and she did not press the point, at least not for the time. She expressed dismay and disappointment when I declared a week later that I thought my masquerade should be less frequent than once per week, even though I now wore a silk nightgown to bed most nights. She appeared so morose on the first 'anniversary' night I failed to dress before dinner, that I relented about seven o'clock, and retired to don lingerie and a full length taffeta evening gown. Her spirits revived and I was forced to confess to myself that 'anniversary' night was a ritual that I too treasured too much to voluntarily give it up. That realization prompted my determination to return full time to the work force as soon as my promised six months as a house husband had expired. CHAPTER 9 One highly significant event happened just two weeks before the end of my promised six months of keeping house, and before I revealed my intention of returning to the work force to Jane. She had proposed that we stage a reenactment of our wedding ceremony. "Just how do you propose to do that?" I had asked in all innocence. "I certainly don't want to make a fool of myself before all our friends and relatives over again." "Well," she countered, "I agree that it should be just the two of us with no outside witnesses. You know how many times we have watched the videos that your mother had made of the real ceremony." "Of course." "If we use just the sound of the videos, we could reenact everything by ourselves. After all it was the most significant event in both our lives." "I suppose you are right, but it wouldn't be the same." "It never could be. We didn't know we were getting married. If we had we might have done things differently." "But we didn't know!" "Anyway, can I count on you to cooperate?" "Of course, Darling, if it makes you happy." "Good. Then I'll make all the arrangements. We'll do it on the day I get back from my overnight trip to Boston." With these words she closed the subject and nothing more was said during the next week. As she left on that trip I bade her good-bye, very unhappy that we would be separated for the first night since our marriage. She adamantly and uncharacteristically refused my request to accompany her. I felt better when she called from her hotel about eleven P.M. to express her love and to inquire how I had dressed for bed. Each of us hung up the phone to retire for the night, full of thoughts about the pleasures that would ensue on the morrow's 'anniversary'. She extracted from me a promise to be home at eleven-thirty in the morning to receive a second call giving instructions for the reenactment she had planned. A large garment bag was delivered to the house next morning about a half hour before her call. Her purpose in calling was to verify that I understood the instructions in the parcel. I was given until five-thirty to ready myself for her arrival. After that I had only to follow her oral directions. My preparations began after lunch with a careful shaving of my legs and underarms followed by a leisurely bubble bath. Freshly towelled and dusted with powder I donned robe and slippers to move to the bedroom where I sat before the dressing table to apply polish to my fingernails and toes. After an interminable wait for the polish to dry I began to dress. The daintiest of white nylon and lace panties slipped up over my buttocks and I tucked my privates into their crotch. My figure began to take shape in the mirror as my coloured nails reached behind me to clip the lace and satin padded bra in its place. I inserted the breast forms before bending over to draw nylon hose up each leg in turn and then standing to fasten them to the garters of a light blue spandex pantie-girdle, styled to look like a garter belt. I was delighted with the appearance of the delicate clocks displayed along each of my calves. Wearing a knee-length nylon duster I returned to the bathroom to give my face an extra close shave. How incongruous to see in the mirror red tipped fingers sliding the razor over my features! The longest part of my preparations was then spent in front of the dresser mirror in the bedroom as I applied all that Jane had taught me about the application of cosmetics. I was still working with a mascara brush when I heard her enter the house. She shouted a greeting and warned me not to leave the bedroom until she had completed all her arrangements in the living room and kitchen. I promised to comply and continued dressing. My slippers were replaced with white pumps with four inch stiletto heels and I tottered a bit as I crossed the room to take a full length slip from its hanger. It felt deliciously cool as it slithered down, moulding itself around my bust and hips. What a thrill it was to lift the full skirt of the satin brocade bridal gown and have it slide down over me as my arms slid into the full length sleeves! I needed a zipper cord to close it up my back, but when I had done so it was evident that Jane's dressmaker had done a perfect job of restyling her gown to my measurements. My blond wig was removed from its stand and placed on my head and I teased the last strands of hair into place with a comb. I clipped my gold watch on my wrist just under the pointed end of my sleeve and clasped the gold locket chain about my neck. For a final few minutes I stood waiting before the bedroom door mirror, nervously watching my reflection as I waited for our sound system to bring forth the strains of the wedding march. At last, holding my bouquet at my waist, I paraded slowly through the hall and kitchen into the living room, following the path Jane had laid out to take approximately the same time as that earlier march. Jane, clad in a tuxedo and low-heeled shoes, stood at one end of the living room watching me as I made my slow progress toward her. Along my route were several strategically placed camcorders and twice a flashbulb popped so I became aware that Jane had arranged to create a photographic record of the occasion. My gown rustled as each knee pushed forward in my solitary procession toward Jane. Smiling sweetly she reached out and touched my elbow as I stepped into my place beside her. We stood together facing a video camera as the recorded words from our wedding were repeated over the sound system. The tape had had her words and mine edited out so it was necessary for us to repeat our vows aloud as the ceremony droned on. Once more I promised, this time in a clear voice, to love, honour, cherish, and obey, and once more the ring was placed on my finger as Jane repeated, "With this ring I thee wed." With my high heels and her low ones she did not have to bend over so far and I did not have to stretch up so much when it was time for the bride to be kissed. We spent the remainder of the evening reenacting those parts of our wedding party which lent themselves to that, and watching the other parts of the festivities on a television monitor. We took time out to photograph ourselves, individually and together, with both still and video cameras. We dined at the table together and rose to the tinkling of cutlery to repeat the kisses of our wedding dinner. Jane pronounced a new speech in response to the toast to the bride. We danced to the original music with no pretense about the fact that Jane led as her arm encircled my waist and mine rested on her shoulder. When it came time for the departure of the bride and groom, she led me into the bedroom where my gown and slip were replaced with a going-away dress, coat, hat, gloves, and purse. She continued to look quite masculine, wearing a topcoat and fedora. I expected the evening to end in our bedroom as I stood before a video camera and tossed my bouquet, but Jane surprised me by adding more to her script. I started to resist as she led me to the house door with the intention of exiting, so she picked me up bodily and carried me outside to the car. I dared not shout so my resistance was futile and I sat sullenly in the passenger seat as she closed the door behind me. She slipped back into the house, latching the door behind her, to turn out the lights and turn off the video and sound equipment. When she emerged a few minutes later, the topcoat and fedora were gone, replaced by a coat of more ladylike cut and fit. She took her place in the driver's seat, but before starting the motor took my hand in hers and drew me toward her. "Let's start our honeymoon with a kiss," she said, placing her lips against mine. I wanted to resist, but yielded as she pressed my head against the headrest. I