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Ok, so, since you asked, this is how it all happened. It's kind of a long story, but... if you'll stick with me, I think you may find it interesting. XXX "Oh, doesn't she look stunning," my wife, Opie, sighed as she watched her little sister, resplendent in her white lace, form fitting, post- ceremony dress swing her legs into the limousine to leave on her honeymoon. "She does, Ope," I agreed. "She's a beautiful girl, but I got the best of the bunch." "Oh, stop it." She elbowed me, playfully. "Josie is a hundred times more beautiful than I am." I was about to assure her that I felt differently, but my mother-in-law called from near the limo. "Penelope! Come over here and wish Josie luck." Opie rolled her eyes. She just hated her full name - Penelope - and Heaven help anyone who called her 'Penny!' Lord in Heaven, that person would face the coldest stare the world had ever known. Opie walked over to the limousine and bent to lean in to kiss her younger sister. I watched as she stood tall again, a smile on her face, but I could sense the stress that she felt from being near her mother. "Opie looks nice today," a voice came from beside me and I turned to see Opie's older sister, Emma. I should pause to point out what you might have already figured out - My mother-in-law is a literature fanatic. She has three daughters, each named for the heroine in a work of literature. Emma, of course, named for the book by Jane Austen, my wife, Penelope, named from the wife of Odysseus in The Odyssey, and Josephine, or Josie, named for Jo in Little Women. Opie and Josie had refused to be saddled with the burden of their literary heritage and used nicknames. It was a bit harder for Emma, though, since her name was not an easy one to contract into a nickname, but I typically called her 'Em.' "She does, Em. Thanks for saying so." "When Josie told me that she wanted her sisters as her attendants, I didn't know how that would work. After all, I haven't seen Opie in a dress since she was in grade school. But that silk suit works nicely, don't you think? We're both in dark rose and the styles seem to go well together." Like Josie, Emma was a stunning woman, too. Five foot six, I only know that because we are the same height, a fit and trim body, the face of an angel and, also like Josie, long golden hair with thick waves throughout. The dress she wore as Josie's co-maid-of-honor was just as beautiful as she was. The deep pink/red was layered in lace with and clung to her upper body as if it had been painted on her. A narrow skirt would have hobbled her at the knees if it were not for the slit up the side that gave her the freedom to move. Opie, was not like her sisters though, and I mean that in every possible way. She didn't look like them, she didn't think like them and she was not as traditional beautiful as them. I don't say that to be cruel, mind you, I'm just saying it because it is true. They are willowy and delicate and feminine in the extreme, while Opie is broader and stronger. It has nothing to do with diet or exercise, she is just built... bigger. I have known Opie since we were in middle school and I have never once seen her in a dress or skirt. Even at senior prom, I wore a tux and she wore a lovely, tailored suit. She got a lot of flack about it, too, but I thought she looked great. I love Opie and I always have, but neither of us is anyone's ideal vision of our given sexes. I'm five six and slender - well, I'm not as trim as I used to be since the quarantine. I admit that, since I don't have to go into my office anymore, I have let my daily routine go a bit. I'm certainly not even pudgy, yet, but I am a little less trim than I was in the past. I could drop five or six pounds. Opie, as I mentioned, is broad in her frame and five inches taller than I am, and if anything the quarantine inspired her to get into even better shape than she already was. Daily workouts online, a high end exercise bike with and interactive series of programs, heavy free weights, watching what she ate, and it worked. She is solid and has a very low BMI, but she will never have the feminine shape her sisters have. "Opie needs to hear that," I finished my thoughts to Emma. Emma shook her head. "You know, she would look beautiful if she'd just let herself be beautiful." "She's beautiful to me, Em. That's all that matters." Emma snickered. "Did you see the way she was drooling over my dress and don't even get me started on Josie's gown? She wants to be pretty, she's just afraid to try." "You know what she says whenever the subject of a dress is brought up, Em." Emma shook her head. "I know, but she's a pretty woman, Kim." Yeah, my name is Kim. Kimberley, actually. Don't laugh, it's a family name. My dad, my granddad, my great-granddad, etc, God rest their souls, were all saddled with that name, too. Apparently we are descended from a British Earle who bore that name and they were all just weird enough to saddle their sons with it. The fact that my mom is Japanese didn't make having a first name that sounded like a Korean last name any easier, either. Lots of jackass, steroid heads took out their latent homosexual rage on me because of it, but... that's a story for another day. Suffice it to say that my Asian/Northern European heritage gave me an unusual blend of features; most notably, these somewhat almond shaped eyes and slight build from mom, and my pale skin and mousy-brown hair from dad. But I digress... Emma continued, "There are plenty of tall, beautiful women around. Opie could be one, but that K.D. Lang haircut and her refusal to ever wear anything pretty are keeping her from reaching her potential." "Again," I said, quietly so others wouldn't hear, "she's beautiful to me." Emma looked at me and smiled. "Ok. Enough about Opie. What's with the K-Pop hairdo?" That actually made me laugh. "Yeah, that actually caused a little domestic tension this morning. I haven't gotten my haircut since the quarantine began. I haven't had to, you know? All of my meetings are online, now, so I haven't had to so anything about it. Today is the first time we've done anything that required a trim. Unfortunately, everyone seems to require an appointment, now. I went to my usual barber at nine this morning and she was booked up. I bounced around town, looking for a haircut, but no one could take me. Opie wasn't pleased, it'll tell you, that." Emma laughed. "You should have called me. I still cut hair now and again. I could have taken of you." See, Emma had gone to a vocational high school and studied hairdressing, but found out pretty quickly that eight hours a day, six days a week in a salon was not her cup of tea. Luckily, she stumbled into the real estate business and found that she not only loved selling houses, but had a real talent for it. Josie was working with Emma, now. Learning the business from her big sister. I thought that was kind of sweet, actually. "The pony tail down your back is kind of cute, but you do have a lot of split ends that need some attention." "You had other things to deal with this morning," I shrugged. To be honest, I thought of calling her, but with her quirky sense of style - and sense of humor - I didn't know how good an idea that would have been. The limo pulled away and everyone waved at the departing Newlyweds. "She looked beautiful, didn't she?" Opie smiled as she joined Emma and me. Opie had always had a soft spot for Josie. Emma... well, Emma was always a little detached, emotionally. She was the boss of the tree sister. She just smiled at my wife. "Well, one more daughter married," my mother-in-law smiled. "And one more to go," she said, sarcastically, looking at Emma. "Not going to happen for a while, mom." This was not a new topic for Emma. "Oh, but, honey... you'd make such a beautiful bride." Emma just rolled her eyes. "Besides," her mother continued, "Penelope denied me a big, beautiful wedding. It's up to you to have one, Emma." "Seriously, mom," Opie shook her head. "There was a global pandemic going on. Kim and I wanted to get married and we couldn't have a bunch of people come. It was a nice, sunny ceremony in our backyard." My mother-in-law shook her head. "With Kim in a WalMart suit and you in a suit with trousers. Not exactly the answers to a mother's dreams, Penelope." "I enjoyed our wedding, Mrs Reed," I said as joyfully as I could, and it was the truth. We had a friend officiate, another who played classical guitar and about a dozen friends. We were all masked and separated and I had my Bose speaker outside and we played one of my playlists off of YouTube Music. It was a really nice day, and much more in line with what Opie and I enjoyed. "Of course you would," Opie's mother scoffed. "You didn't have to get dressed up or even get a haircut." Ok, that was very true, but it was kind of mean. "Enough, mom," Opie's voice sounded pleasant for the benefit of the people around us, but she was ticked off. I could tell. "The wedding isn't the important thing, the marriage is, and Kim and I are very happy together." "Yeah, mom," Emma was a bit less concerned about appearing upset than Opie had been, "they had a simple wedding followed by a lifetime of happiness. You had a beautiful, elaborate wedding followed by eleven years of hell until you got divorced." That's went over like a lead ballon. My mother-in-law scowled for a moment, then a fake smile spread across her face. "I'm going to go say goodbye to our family and friends. Perhaps you should do the same. We'll speak again tomorrow - when we're all sober." "Well done," Opie said to her sister. "We almost got through the wedding without a scene." "It wouldn't be a Reed family gathering if we didn't have a moment or two of genuine emotions." I sighed and held up my hands. "Ladies. Maybe we could shelve all of this testosterone until another day." That made both of them laugh. Suddenly, Emma looked down at my wife's shoes. "Opie! You're wearing nice heels! I hadn't noticed until I saw you standing next to Kim." Opie put her arm around my shoulders. "I don't usually wear heels for just that reason. I'm already taller than Kim and I don't want to look foolish." "Foolish!?" Emma shook her head. "You look great in heels. You should wear them more often. So what if they make you taller than Kim. Look, I'm taller than Kim when I'm wearing these heels. You really need to start enjoying being a woman, Ope." "Oh, good. You've alienated mom and now you're trying to alienate me as well. Have you been drinking Jack Daniels, Em?" She looked at the glass in her hand. "Hmm. Yeah, I have. Sorry. I guess it loosens up my tongue a bit more than it should." "You and mom, both. Come on. Let's go pretend to be a happy family." So, that was about five weeks before Opie and my first anniversary. Now, Opie and I both have pretty good jobs. Opie works for a hospital as an administrator, she's actually moved to a pretty prestigious position recently, and I am an insurance actuary. We both used to leave the house at about eight fifteen every weekday morning and go to our respective offices. Both of us have a closet full of suits, too, so we looked professional in the office. Of course, when COVID arrived, we both began working from home. That was definitely harder for Opie to do than me. I just had to analyze data and make a decision based on logical, mathematical results. For Opie, though, it was tough. She had to rely on people doing their jobs well and she wasn't able to check on them. That created a lot of issues. She went back to working in her office at the hospital as soon as she was able. It was stressful. I expected to go back to work last spring, but the company delayed and delayed us until at last they announced that they were downsizing their real estate holdings and those people who could do their jobs from home were encouraged (asked) to do so. Not being an overly sociable person, I was thrilled. Yeah, I'd miss the casual conversation here and there, but the up sides were 1) No commute, 2) Access to a clean lavatory whenever I needed it, 3) Fewer meetings and, most importantly, 4) No dress code! In truth, I never felt comfortable in a suit. Working from home meant working in sweat pants or shorts most of the time, and I loved that. Sometime around September of last year, I realized that I hadn't had my camera on during a Zoom meeting in months and no one had complained once. I was just the numbers guy. Beyond that, no one even thought about me, and we were all very happy with that arrangement. My hair had always been - not long, but... full. It was off of my collar, but over my ears and just a little shaggy. Stylish - you know what I mean. Over the months of isolation, it grew quickly and, with all the Barber shops closed, I just started tying it up in a ponytail. With my somewhat Asian features, it kind of worked. For my own wedding, well, that all kind of happened quickly. Yes, we'd planned on getting married in May, but because of the lockdown, we delayed it an month, then another and another, until finally it just came down to, 'Let's get married this Sunday afternoon right here in our own yard.' So, We just wore work suits and had some friends and family join us. No time for a haircut and no real reason, either. It was just getting a bit long then and it was kind of a fun thing to share with all of our friends, who'd also gotten a bit shaggy over the months. By the time our first anniversary was approaching, my very straight black hair was well past my shoulders. I had learned to care for it, though. I washed and conditioned it everyday and brushed it a lot. In fact, I was pretty proud of it. Ok, back to the Wednesday morning prior to our first anniversary. Opie was at work and I was crunching some numbers at my desk in the alcove in the back of our living room when the front door of our house opened and Josie and Emma burst in laughing. None of that was odd. Since Opie and I bought this place four years earlier, her sister knew that they didn't need to knock. The door was always unlocked if we were home and they had keys if we weren't. "Hi, guys," I smiled and looked up at them from my desk chair. "What's up?" "Which is why we're here," Emma smiled and grabbed a dinning room chair for both herself and Josie. "Can you chat for a few minutes?" "Sure, I guess," I said, actually relieved to have a reason to take a break for a few minutes. "So," Emma crossed her legs and looked serious as she stared at me, "what have you gotten Opie for your upcoming anniversary?" That did surprise me. "Umm... well... I have reservations at the 111 Chophouse for Monday evening." "No presents, then?" Josie asked. That made me feel a bit inadequate, actually, because I thought that the expensive dinner was an ample gift. It would end up costing a couple of hundred dollars after all was said and done, so... But rather than explain that and look lame in front of my sisters-in-law, I fibbed and said, "Actually, I was planning on going shopping for a gift over the weekend." "Great," Emma smiled, "because we have a cool idea." That piqued my interest, so I put down my paperwork and folded my arms across my midsection. "I'm listening." "Ok," Josie seemed excited. "On my wedding day, Opie was kind of swooning over everything that I wore and everything I packed for our honeymoon." "Yeah," I nodded, "she mentioned it to me, too. So...?" "So..." Josie looked to her sister for support before continuing, "yesterday, Emma and I went shopping and we stopped at this new place in The Mill, and Kim, you would not believe the elegant lingerie they had! Everything was just beautiful!" I nodded and waited a moment for them to continue, but they looked at me as if they'd already made their point. "That's your idea? Lingerie? Lingerie for Opie? My wife, Opie? The woman who wore a pair of running shorts and a tee shirt with the words 'Breast Cancer Awareness Week' written on it on our wedding night? That woman? You want me to buy her lingerie?" "Look, Kim," Emma took over, "I know my sister as well as I know myself. Yes, she feels awkward whenever she's asked to appear in girly- mode in public, but she has a desire to express that side of her - I can tell. We've talked about this kind of thing - all three of us," she indicated Josie who nodded that she had been involved in those talks, "and I'm telling you, if you get her something silky and sexy, she will melt over it. Trust us." I shrugged. "I don't know..." Josie jumped in, though. "Kim, have you ever had sex with someone in sexy lingerie? I'm telling you, it's a whole different experience than having sex with someone in a cotton tee shirt. Take it from us - we've both worn plenty of lingerie to bed - the feel of that silkiness between your skin and his..." "Or 'hers' in this case," Emma injected. "... is just... ohh..." she actually shivered, "...so sexy and... wonderful." There was silence for a few moments until Emma said, "Trust us, Kim. I know she's never said it, but this is something Opie really wants. Yes, she's taller and maybe just a little broader than most girls, but she wants to feel pretty and desirable. Who knows if she'll ever express her beauty in public, but at least, with you, in private, she can be your pretty woman." I pondered all this for a few moments. I mean, I really love Josie, so how she dresses when we're intimate is not really of any concern to me, but... she did kind of swoon over Josie's feminine clothes at the wedding and, over the time we've been together, she has admired a lot of really pretty clothes in magazines and movies and even on other women. I wasn't one hundred percent convinced that this was a good idea, though. Like I said, I'd known Opie most of my life, but I'd never thought of her as a 'girl,' if you know what I mean. A woman, yes, but not a girly woman. Buuut... if anyone knew more about Opie than me, it was Josie and Emma. "You're sure about this?" I asked. "Absolutely," Emma nodded and Josie smiled. So, let me tell you about The Mill. It's a mill. An old wire mill, to be precise. It was the primary employer in the town where we all grew up from the mid nineteenth century until the mid nineteen sixties when it closed. Since then, it just sat and decayed. A few years ago, a developer showed up who wanted to convert the entire building to condos. Some people loved that idea, but others, especially the Board of Selectmen, did not. They were talking about creating over a thousand living areas and they planned to market to younger families. The truth was that the town's infrastructure just couldn't handle that. Schools, emergency services, even grocery stores couldn't possibly meet the needs of that many new people in such a short period of time. The solution came from an artist. She proposed that a portion of The Mill be used as a place for artist and artisans and non-chain specialty stores, etc. Then, if things worked out, they could expand the amount of space to accommodate more of the same kinds of vendors. Well, it took off like wildfire and now, less than ten years later, The Mill is once again the largest employer in our town. The entire, vast space of the old wire mill is now occupied by craftspeople, artists, etc. and people from all over come to shop there. It really is an amazing place. The upshot of all this success means that those of us who live here are never too far away from an amazing gift for any occasion. So, the idea that the perfect anniversary present for Opie was waiting just a couple of miles away didn't surprise me. Eventually, I agreed to go with my sisters-in-law to The Mill to see what had so excited them. I sent a text to my supervisor and asked if I could leave work just a little early that day in order to deal with a personal issue. She told me that, since I was actually pretty far ahead of schedule on the project I'd been assigned, I could take the whole afternoon off as long as I was willing to make up that time later if I should find myself falling behind. So, at just after noontime, I entered a lingerie shop for the first time. Emma and Josie were very excited about the gift that they planned to help me pick out, and their excitement was amplified by the beauty of the clothing displayed in the shop. Now, I grew up in a single parent household. My mom died when I was nine and was sick for a few years prior to that. Dad pretty much raised me himself. He passed away a few years back, but my point is - I had never really been this close to any fancy women's intimate wear, let along things this amazing. To tell you the truth, I felt the blood rushing from my face and regrouping in a new and potentially embarrassing location. In order to avoid an embarrassing situation, I looked anywhere except at the silk and lace confections that so entranced Emma and Josie. "May I help you?" A woman asked as she approached. Suddenly, she seemed to recognize my wife's sisters. "Oh, hi! You came back." Then she looked at me. "So, is this the young man who needs some lingerie?" That quip had a very different impact on me than on the girls. They giggled and I grew even more pale... and, strangely enough, a little aroused at the suggestion. I just forced that feeling down and spoke. "Yeah, I need an anniversary present for my wife." "Congratulations!" The woman smiled. "How many years?" "One. I mean, it's the first anniversary of our wedding, but we've been together forever. We were friends as kids, we dated since middle school and we lived together for a while before we got married last year." I just spewed out the words, maybe to be clear, and maybe just to state quite clearly that I did indeed have a wife. The saleswoman just smiled at me like I was a nervous child. "Don't worry. We have a lot of nervous boyfriends and husbands in here. So... what did you have in mind?" I looked at Emma and Josie and shrugged. Emma answered for me. "I think what Kim wants is a nice, lacy nightie. Something sweet and girly and sexy and soft." The woman nodded. "Alright, then. And what size is Kim?" That caused more laughter from my in-laws. I tried to correct things. "No, no... I'm Kim. My wife is Opie. I'm not a hundred percent sure of her sizes." The woman blinked at me a couple of times. "Ok. I apologize. Does anyone know what size we should be looking at?" Emma took over. "Opie is a tricky-size-ten. She's slender, but she's tall and broad. Kind of broad in the shoulders, if you know what I mean." "Ok," the woman nodded and began a whole long discussion about how various styles would compliment different parts of Opie's body, what colors, kinds of silks and laces were available in each and finally, after well over ten minutes, we seemed to have arrived at a choice that pleased all three of the women and left me completely baffled. "So, what exactly am I buying?" I asked. The woman smiled, then walked away for a moment, returning with an off white gown that shone of watery-looking silk and was adorned with lace around the cleavage. It was very chic, but looked too small for Opie and I pointed that out. The lady laughed. "Yes. This is a size four. It's the 'floor model,' in a sense. It's the one I keep on a hanger for people to see. I just wanted you to see it. I try to keep all of my stock as pristine as possible, so the nighties are all in boxes with tissue paper both inside the garment and surrounding the garment. I put a lot of effort into designing and making these items. I want to present them to my customers correctly." It seemed like over kill, but ok. So, I told her I'd take it and she led me to the counter. She took a box out her storage area and showed me the beautiful nighty in its tissue paper cocoon within. Then she wrapped it and handed me the bill. My jaw dropped. "Two hundred and eight two dollars for a nightgown!?" "Not a nightgown," she smirked. "A statement of modern femininity for your wife. Trust me, Kim... once she discovers what it feels like to wear something this elegant, she'll never want to sleep in shorts and a tee shirt again." Reluctantly, I took out my credit card and handed it to her. She processed the payment and handed it back. "Thank you," she smiled. I'd smile too if I'd just sold a two hundred and eighty two dollar nightgown. Then, as we were leaving and Josie and Emma were promising to return soon, the woman called to me, "You be sure to come back, too, Kim. I also sell silk boxers and men's pajamas if you'd like something sexy for yourself." We exited the shop and I looked at the girls and asked, "Why would I want something sexy for me?" Josie spoke through her giggles. "Oh, Kimmy, you have a lot to learn." Ok, so, that was Thursday and our anniversary was the following Monday. I worried about the choice of present for a day or so, but by Sunday, I was pretty sure that Opie would love the nightie. So, Monday morning arrived and Opie did her free weights while I showered. Then, while she showered, I made her a breakfast sandwich to eat before she left - bacon, eggs and cheese on a bulkie roll. I wrapped that in a little aluminum foil and placed it on my gift, then put my card on top of that. Opie appeared a few minutes later. She was dressed in a very smart looking, dark blue pant suit with a lighter blue, nylon blouse - well, to be true, it was kind of a woman's version of a man's Oxford shirt - beneath. She saw my gifts and said, "Oh, wow. I only got you a little something." She was holding a small, wrapped box with a card taped to it. "You didn't need to get me anything," I smiled. "Happy Anniversary," I said as I leaned up and kissed her cheek. She handed me her gift and we both opened the cards. Mine had a fifty dollar Amazon gift card inside it, which made me very happy! I love Amazon gift cards! "Wow, really!?" Opie read the gift card mock-up in my card. "Dinner at The 111 Chophouse' tonight? That sounds great!" I was please with the reaction. I proceeded to open my her little gift to me. It turned out to be a new wallet, one that had a lot of slots for cards. Definitely something I needed. My old one was falling apart. "Thanks, Ope! This is great!" I gushed, very pleased at her thoughtfulness. "Open mine before you have to leave." She was actually a bit excited as she tore the paper free of the box and put her fingers under the edges of the lid, lifting it off. She saw the elaborately decorated tissue paper within and her eyebrows raised a bit, and... well... I thought that I saw her smile diminish just a bit. When the paper was pulled back to reveal the lace bodice, Opie stopped dead and stared at it. "What's this?" The question wasn't said with the sense of curiosity, but with a sense of wariness. When I didn't answer, she repeated the question, but this time, her inflection was definitely indicating anger. "What is this?" "It's... it's a nightgown." I said quietly. She looked at me with narrow, angry eyes. "A nightgown? Why on earth would you ever buy me a nightgown? Especially one like this? This... this... nylon and lace nightmare?" "It's silk," I muttered, just digging my hole deeper. "Silk? Well, isn't that lovely? Tell me, Kim... in all the time that you and I have known each other, have you ever, EVER, seen me wear something like this?" "Well... no..." I truly felt terrible. This was absolutely NOT how I had anticipated the morning going. "...but..." "But what?" Opie was really ticked off, now. She slapped the tissue paper back into the box and began forcing the cover back on. "Am I not pretty enough for you, Kim? Am I too butch? Too big? Too manly? Is that what you're telling me with this gift?" "No, no, of course not, Opie," I was desperate to calm her down. "Look, I'm sorry, but I just wanted to give you something special and Emma and Josie said that this was the kind of thing you'd never buy for yourself..." She was busy grabbing her purse and briefcase as she prepared to leave. "Damned right I'd never buy something like that for myself. I know what I look like, Kim, and I'd never degrade myself..." she stopped and looked at me with those angry eyes again. "Emma and Josie? Did you discuss ME with MY sisters?" "I... they..." I didn't know what to say at this point. "They suggested that this would be perfect and they took me to the store at The Mill where I got it." "Well, that's just perfect, isn't it?" What should I have answered to that, because I just continued to stammer. "Just perfect! Now, my sisters know how you think of me. Wonderful. Tell you what, Kim... why don't you wear it, huh? Why don't you get all dolled up to please me? Doesn't that sound like fun?" That last word was spat at me like it was meant to slap my face - and it did. "Opie... I'm really sorry..." I tried to form a logical defense, but my head was spinning. "What's the name of the store where you got this... this... thing?" She grabbed the box as I sputtered the name of the store. "Alright. I'll return it on the way home. Then we'll go out to dinner and we'll forget that this ever happened, ok?" I would have liked to have answered and apologized once again, but the door slammed shut and she was already storming through the garage to get to her car. 'Shit." I muttered to the door. "Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit." I looked at the table where the beautiful wrapping paper was wadded up next to the breakfast sandwich she hadn't even noticed. "Happy fucking anniversary," I grumbled. "You really messed things up this time, Kimberly. Congratulations." I put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, pulled on a clean polo shirt, brushed my teeth and hair, pulled my straight, brown hair into a low ponytail and exchanged my pajama bottoms for a pair of basketball shorts, then went to my desk and signed into work for the day feeling like complete crap. I sat at my desk and stared at the work I had piled up in front of me and shook my head at how stupid I'd been. God, I could have given Opie a vacuum cleaner or an iron or any of those other cliches of terrible things to give as anniversary presents and she would have been happier than she was. I picked up my phone and sent a text. 'OPIE I'M SORRY. I DIDN'T MEAN TO UPSET YOU. I LOVE YOU.' It was about a half an hour later when she replied. 'LOVE YOU, TOO. WORKING NOW. BE HOME AS SOON AS I CAN.' Well, at least she was talking to me. I struggled to focus on work that morning and was not all together surprised when I heard my front door open just as I was sitting at the kitchen table to eat lunch. I was, however, just a little surprised to see Josie come into the kitchen alone. Typically, Emma came alone or she came with Josie. To tell you the truth, I think this may have been the very first time that Josie and I were alone in a room together. "Hey," she said, quietly, obviously aware of the gift's reception. "Hey," I responded with the same lack of enthusiasm. "Where's your counterpart?" Josie sat opposite me and I think, for the first time, the stark differences between her and my wife were suddenly revealed to me. I already compared their height and general fashion sense to you before, but there was so much more. Josie was small, lithe, compact, soft, feminine, curvy in that way that some women have that just bowls men over. Of course, to me, she was still like my little sister, and I mean that for real. Opie and I used to babysit for Josie all the time. I mean, she wasn't a baby, but she was a kid. I watched her grow from a little tomboy, just like Opie had been, to this beautiful woman. If you put a twelve year old version of Opie and a twelve year old version of Josie side by side, they would be almost indistinguishable. But if you put the two women in their current forms side by side, they hardly seemed to represent the same sex. And truth be told, I found Opie a thousand times more attractive. I never should have listened to her sisters. "Emma is having lunch with Opie to try to smooth things out there. Listen, Kim," I could tell that she was not real comfortable with this kind of conversation - I mean, who would be? - and I didn't want to make it worse, so I held up my hand so she would stop. "Josie... what happened happened and there's nothing more to say. It was my fault. I should have realized that if Opie wanted to wear that kind of stuff, then she'd have worn it already." Josie nodded. "I feel awful, though. Was she really mad?" I nodded. "Madder than I've ever seen her, but she said that she'd return it on her way home and we'd never discuss it again. I guess that's good enough, or at least it'll have to be." She nodded and patted my hand - another first - and stood. "I just want you to know how sorry I am that Emma and I messed things up for you. Everything will be fine, though. Opie loves you. She'll get over this." "I hope," I chuckled. Then, another first, Josie bent down and kissed my cheek. "I'll get going. I just wanted to... well... you know." And she left. She wasn't there more than ten minutes, but I was glad she'd come. I'd been beating myself up all morning and I was happy to talk to someone who understood. I worked through the afternoon and called it quits around four thirty. A little early, yes, but I'd submitted all of my numbers on the project I'd been assigned and I had plenty of time to get started on my next assignment in the morning. I took my phone into the shower with me, just in case anyone from work called, and I got myself ready to go out to dinner. Usually, I just part my hair on the right and let my hair dry on its own, but I needed to get dressed up soon, so I used Opie's hair dryer and spent five minutes or so struggling to figure out how best to use the contraption. Eventually, I called up a video on YouTube and followed their instructions. Ten minutes after that, my hair was not only dry, but looked abnormally nice. I was going to tie it back up in its usual bow, but decided to leave it as it was and see what Opie thought of it. Long hair was fairly new to me and I kind of enjoyed having it. I know that's odd, but it was kind of like the one luxury that I found I could cultivate during the COVID quarantine. Even though I didn't need to, I ran my electric shaver across my face. My father had hair like a Viking. His five o'clock shadow started appearing at eleven in the morning and his back and chest were like thickets of hair. He used to say that growing hair was his true calling. I, on the other hand, seemed to have inherited my body hair from my mother's family. It was sparse and wispy. I tried to grow a mustache once when I was in college, but all I got was the kind of long, thing hairs that old women sometimes get. It was a bit embarrassing and I am now very self conscious about having any hair growth at all on my face. By five forty five, I was ready to go out. I really didn't want to wear a suit, though, so I found my loosest fitting dress shirt, a pair of nice chinos and a sports coat. I put on my dress shoes for the first time since Josie's wedding and tied my tie in a sharp double Windsor knot and waited for Opie to return. It was nearly six thirty by the time she pulled into the driveway and beeped her horn for me to come out. That was pretty late for her, but I knew that she needed to make a stop at The Mill on the way home. The 111 Chophouse is a really nice restaurant in a nearby city. 111 is actually its address, but their menu is not just restricted to meat dishes. They have a nice selection, but they are pricey, so we'd only been there a couple of times before. We were given a very nice table with a bit of privacy. COVID restrictions meant that the restaurants were still operating at a reduced number of patrons, but being a Monday evening, I wouldn't have expected a huge crowd, anyway. Most of the patrons were at the bar drinking trendy, expensive drinks. Dinner was really nice! I had salmon and Opie had a beautifully plated fillet mignon. Apple cobbler for dessert and a couple of glasses of wine, and the dinner had gone remarkably well. Our conversation had remained very civil - normal, almost. Opie even complimented the way I looked with my hair blown out and hanging freely over my shoulders. We were home around nine thirty and headed into the house before I noticed that Opie was carrying the box that the nightgown had come in with her. I was going to say something, but opted to keep whatever questions I might have to myself. Opie went upstairs to get ready for bed and I pulled the curtains down in the downstairs windows and checked the doors before heading upstairs. When I entered the room, I stopped short at the sight of a peach colored nightgown draped over the foot of the bed. It was obviously not the same gown I'd purchased for Opie. Not only was it not the same color, but if the one I'd chosen was decorated with lace, then this one was positively dripping in lace. Not only that, but next to the night gown, there was a matching wrap, or robe - or whatever - it was something for the wearer to put on when walking around. Opie emerged from the bathroom wearing just a sports bra and her slacks, as she usually did after her evening ablutions. She didn't mention the nightgown and neither did I. I just went into the lavatory and dealt with my own preparations. I put my hair in its usual low ponytail for sleeping and exited the bathroom in my boxers with my shirt, jacket, etc, over my arm. I headed to the walk-in closet to hang up the clothes while Opie fussed with preparing her clothes for the next day, still dressed as she's been in the bra and slacks. When I closed the door to closet, Opie was sitting on the side of the bed, still dressed as she had been. She crossed her legs at the knees and with her arms folded across her midsection, she suddenly looked a bit too serious. "So... I had a visit from Emma during my lunch, today." She said. I nodded. "I heard. Josie came to see me." "To apologize?" Opie asked. I nodded, again. "I'm not sure how they found out the I'd upset you..." 'Oh, I told them," Opie interrupted me. "I called them both on the way to work and read them both the riot act. Josie just cried and apologized. Emma tried to tell me that I was depriving both you and me of the pleasures of lingerie while having sex. I thought that seemed a bit too personal, to tell you the truth." "I agree," I whispered, still uncertain of what else to say. "And yet you discussed our sex life with my sisters." That about floored me. "No, no, Ope, I didn't. They just kept telling me that you'd enjoy this kind of thing..." She stopped me with a wave of her hand. "Ok. I get it, but I still felt like my privacy was violated. Maybe you didn't initiate the conversation, but you still complied and had some sort of discussion, but let me get to my point." I inhaled and calmed down. I felt like I was in a trap. I didn't know what was about to happen, but I knew that something definitely was. "Anyway, after work, I went to The Mill and found the store you'd been to. The lady was very nice, and she could tell by the way that the tissue paper had not been disturbed that I'd never taken it out of the box. She couldn't refund the money, though, because you'd used a credit card and I didn't have that with me. My first thought was to just leave and return tomorrow with your card, but then I got to thinking about something that Emma had said. She said that I was depriving both you and me of the feel of real high end lingerie. Well, how could I do that, right? I mean if the feel is that amazing, maybe we should try it, right?" She waited for me to reply, so I did. "Ok, I guess..." She smiled, just a little. "So, the idea is that the feel of silk and lace between two bodies will act as an enhancement to the act, correct." "So I understand." "And that it is the feel of the silk and lace that is important, not the actual location of it." I didn't quite understand that sentence, but nodded. "Sure." "So it doesn't matter who is actually wearing the silk and lace, just that it is present, right?" I blinked at that. "What?" "Let me be clear. You and I have a lot in common, including never having worn anything as frilly and girly as that nightgown you bought me. You wanted to feel the added sensation of silk while having sex, I couldn't care less about it. You bought me a very frilly nightgown so that we'd have that feeling. I didn't want to wear anything as girlish as that, but I did not want to deprive you of your fun, so - I exchanged the gown you bought for me for this lovely nightie for you." I was really confused now. I mean, this was REALLY not what I was expecting. "What? Are you suggesting that I wear the nightgown?" She smiled. "I am. Like I said - neither of us has ever worn anything like this before, so if you want to experience the feeling of silk and lace, I will support that, as long it's YOU wearing the nightgown." Ok - so this was a little off the rails for us. Opie and I had very satisfying sex life, but it was... standard, I guess. Or maybe - Run of the mill? Unadventurous? All of those words were correct, but we were happy with it - at least I was and Opie seemed to be. Having said that, though, since going into the lingerie shop with my sisters-in-law last week, I had been obsessing about what it must feel like to be wrapped in that kind of elegance. So, rather than just say 'no,' I started thinking about it again. I was feeling a little... kinky, I guess... and I was feeling a little bit more curious than I would have expected to feel in that moment. I wasn't about to just jump at the chance to put on the nightgown and have sex with Opie, though. Instead, I asked, "What if I don't want to wear it?" "Then you've wasted nearly three hundred dollars on something that will never be worn." Aha! I had her, now, "I could just return it tomorrow, though. I can take the nightgown and my credit card and return it for a refund." She shook her head, though. "Sorry, honey, you can't. The only reason she even considered it was because it was obvious that the nighty had never been worn. I'm took these out of the box though. She'd never accept them back, now. I'm afraid that it's either wear it, or waste it." I squinted at her as I thought. "Ok, let's make a deal. If I wear it tonight, you wear it after that." She laughed. "That would never fit me, Kim. The lady remembered you and she picked this out to fit you." "Ok - then if I wear it tonight, then you have to go back to The Mill and get your own silk lingerie to wear at night." I figured she'd never agree to that, but she surprised me. "Tell you what - you wear the nighty and the peignoir - that's the robe - for a week and I can pick out something from that shop for me to wear after that." "Something silk?" I asked, just to insure that we were on the same page. She smiled and nodded. "Something less... doll-ish, but, yes, it will be silk." Then it was my turn to smile and nod. "Ok. It's a deal." I had Opie, now. If, in fact, she secretly wanted to wear these kind of feminine items in the privacy of our bedroom for seven nights, put up with a little bit of embarrassment, and maybe some kinky fun, and then she'd be wearing the lingerie. I was beginning to think that Emma and Josie may have been right, after all. If Opie didn't want to wear pretty, girly lingerie, then she never would have agreed to a deal like this. I picked up the nightgown and was about to drop it over my head, but Opie stopped me. "Boxers," she said. "What about them?" "Take off your boxers," she said, still sitting in her businesslike manner, still in her bra and trousers. "Pretty girls don't wear boxers under their nighties." I smirked at her, but took them off, anyway. Then, I slipped my arms and head through the openings and dropped the nightgown onto my shoulders. And my world changed. As I've told you, I grew up in a house with just me and my dad, and I had only ever been romantically involved with Opie, so I'd never really even touched something as soft and sensuous as this piece of clothing. Now, I was actually wearing this confection - this meringue - the amazing, soft, sexy piece of clothing... and I loved it. I had a curious reaction to it, though. The softness and prettiness made me feel... small... sexy... vulnerable. Opie stood up and stood in front of me. She was always taller than me, but with me barefoot and her in her chunky little heels, she was substantially taller and, with me in my lace covered nighty, I actually felt intimidated by my own wife. Opie looked me over, her lower lip extended in thought. "Hmm. You're actually quite cute that way. I like it." I smiled a little as she reached behind my head and pulled my hair free of its ponytail. She ran her fingers through my hair and her eyes began to twinkle. "Quite cute." She pulled me close, her arms wrapped firmly around my lower back. She looked me in the eye for several moments before she planted a firm kiss on my lips that sent shivers down my spine. Then she nuzzled into that spot where my neck met my shoulder blade, kissing and kissing and kissing my skin. "You know," Opie smiled, "I didn't think you'd ever put this on. But now that you have... I find this very exciting. You look really cute. Especially with your hair down like that. Maybe this was a good idea, after all." She rubbed her hands on my back. "This really is soft, isn't it?" She whispered as she rubbed and kissed me, my back against my bureau. "I like it." "You should wear one," I gasped. "We'll see," she said in a husky growl, "but for now..." she kissed my lips even harder. "... let's get on the bed." Another forceful and passionate kiss followed as Opie led me to the bed, me walking backwards in her embrace. When we reached the bed, the mattress met the back of my knees and I fell backwards onto the bed. Now, as I already mentioned, Opie and I had a happy sex life, but it was always pretty conventional. Typically, me on top controlling things and very occasionally, Opie would take the lead. This time, though, Opie didn't just take the lead, she was voracious. She continued her kisses, alternating kisses on my lips with kisses on my neck, shoulders and even along the neckline of my nightgown. My body was becoming a mass of tingles and goose bumps. It was like nothing I'd ever felt before. Opie was consumed in a fit passion and I was overwhelmed by everything that she was doing to me. I was desperate to return her kisses, but she was focused on her own kissing and touching me through the silk and lace material. Then, without warning, Opie pulled the hem of my nightgown up to my waist and pushed my knees as wide apart as she could. Abruptly, she stood and unfastened the button and zipper on her trousers and pushed them down past her own knees. Then, without warning, she grabbed my very stiff member and very gently worked my organ into herself. I'm sure that we both shivered in unison at the unusual feel connecting in such a new and exciting manned. With her legs together and mine spread, I felt as if her grip on my tool was tighter than it had ever been and when she thrust on me, there was so much more to feel than I'd ever felt before. I am almost embarrassed to say that I probably only lasted five or six minutes that first time, but when I'd... well... there's no need to get graphic, I guess... but when I'd finished, I was in a fog of ecstasy like nothing I'd ever experienced before. Honestly, I don't think I could have even moved for a few minutes. I'm not even sure that I was breathing at first. I was only really conscious of the amazing experience I'd just been through, until I felt Opie sliding into bed bedside me and pulling me into a cuddle. "Well, I guess I have to admit that there is something awfully exciting about the feel of silk when making love." Opie whispered. "I guess," I huffed in response. "Holy cow. That was amazing." Opie laughed. "Let's take a little break and see if you might be able to go again in a little while." I was really surprised by that. Opie was never interested in more than one go-round in the course of a night. "Really?" She nodded and smiled. "Wow. I guess that the feel of this stuff does make you a little wild." I smiled and snuggled in tighter so that my nightgown rubbed her bare skin a little more. She was still wearing her bra, but that's all. "Do you like how it feels?" She asked. I should have balked before answering her, but the fact was that I had just experienced the most wonderful and intimate few minutes of our entire relationship and I had no interest in maintaining any masculine fa?ade. I LOVED how I felt in that nighty and had no qualms in saying so. Besides, the more I raved about the feelings, the more likely it was that I would see Opie in something silky, sexy and lacy in a week. "It's amazing," I nearly giggled. "It's like liquid electricity on my skin. I kind of love it. You will, too, when you get your own gown." She raised her eyebrows and smirked. "We shall see." She ran her fingers through my hair, moving it off of my face. "I admit that I like the feel of the silk, but that's not the only thing that set me off, tonight." She ran her fingers through my hair, again. "It's kind of weird to say, but... when you put the nightgown on... you looked beautiful. I mean it. I couldn't believe how much I wanted you at that moment. Then, when I let your hair down... I just wanted you so much that I couldn't resist." Ok, now, as I'm telling you this story, I realize how odd that last thing was for a wife to say to her husband, but being in the headspace I was in at that moment, I nearly melted at the compliment. She must have sensed that I liked what she'd said, because she continued to caress my hair and said, "My little Asian beauty. You are the most exciting thing I've ever seen." Again, I loved the compliment so much that I shivered - and she felt it and knew that I was into continuing to dress this way at night if it would please her. "What do you say?" She smiled a hungry smile. "Do you think you can do it, again?" "I can try," I giggled and we tried and tried and succeeded over and over again. As you can imagine, we didn't get to sleep until well past midnight. I was shaken awake the next morning by Opie who was pulling on a pair of panties as she nudged my shoulders. "Kim! Come on, honey, wake up. We over slept. I have to get going as quickly as I can." I blinked and looked at the clock on my bed stand. 8:29am. We both needed to be at work in thirty one minutes. Easier for me than for Opie, of course, because my office was in the rear of our living room. "Can I ask a favor," Opie said, a little frantic. "Can you make be an English muffin and put a little marmalade on it so I can eat it on the way to the hospital?" "Sure," I said as I pulled back the covers and realized that I still had the nightgown on. I started to make my way to my bureau, but since it was next to Opie's, I would have interfered with her. So, I headed for the door, but Opie stopped me. "Here," she called as she tossed the garment that matched the one I wore to me. "What's this?" I asked. "It goes with your nighty. It's a matching robe." "I don't think I need this to make an English muffin," I laughed and I was about to toss it back on the bed, but Opie stopped me. "Uh uh uh... the deal it that you wear what I bought you. That includes the matching robe. Besides, it's soft, too. Put it on. You'll like it." I shook my head, headed down the hall, slipping my arms into the sleeves of the robe as I walked. I was very surprised that the added material actually made the feeling of the clothing even more sensual. It had the same lace embellishments as the nighty, but, besides having long, very loose sleeves that ended in elasticized, belled, lace cuffs, the main material of the robe was nearly transparent. NOW I know that it was made from a very pricey chiffon, but at the time, the very, very sheer overlay that sat on top of my nightgown was fascinating to me. I got to the kitchen and pulled out the sleeve of Thomas' English Muffins, splitting one with a fork and dropping it into the toaster. While it toasted, I split one for me, too. A few minutes later, I heard Opie hurry into the kitchen. "You know, I kind of like having a sexy little thing bouncing around my house in a cute, little nighty," she joked, then pulled my hair to the side and kissed the nape of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I giggled, but really liked the attention. "I think this is actually a little too big for me, actually," I said. "Look, there's a lot of extra material." "That's because it's supposed to fall off of your shoulders and hang from your breasts, but you're lacking lacking in that department." Then she looked ore closely and said, "You'd have to be a pretty big girl for your breasts to be on display in this gown, though." She rubbed my bottom through the material and smiled, "It does feel sexy, Kim, I'll admit to that." I handed her a small paper plate with her muffin toasted with the marmalade spread across it to eat on the way to work. "Then stop on your way home and pick up one for yourself." She grabbed her briefcase and purse, then took the plate from me, giving me a peck on the lips. "One week. That's our deal. Then... I'll consider it." "If I do a week as your sex kitten, then you had better do a lot more than 'consider' it!" I called as she headed to the door that led to our driveway. She turned and winked. "When you take that off, check to see if you left any marks on it. You may need to take a sponge to a few spots. Girls have to be careful with their intimates, you know." She winked and disappeared out the door. I shook my head and bit into my own English muffin. I ate some it and put the rest aside to eat while I worked. I realized that it was getting a little late, so I ran back upstairs, amazed by the feel of the abundant material flowing around me, and took off the robe and nighty, leaving them draped neatly over the back of a rocking chair we had in our room. Then, I pulled on a pair of gym trunks and a polo shirt and was about to hurry into the lavatory to brush my teeth and hair, when Opie's tease about taking care of the nighty came back to me. At two hundred and eighty dollars, this was an expensive article of clothings, so, even though I think she was teasing, I checked to see if I had, in fact, left any dirty evidence on the silk. I had. So I spent a few minutes correcting that issue. I hung the nightgown on a hanger on the back of the bathroom door to dry, then brushed my teeth, but when I got to my hair, I stopped and looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was an unabashed mess from our lovemaking of the last ten hour hours, but I liked that it looked... different. I brushed it out, but it didn't regain the fullness I'd stumbled on to yesterday when I'd used Opie's blow dryer. I was a little underwhelmed by the results, but it was nearly nine o'clock and I needed to sign-in and get to work, so I just let it hang down my back and hurried back downstairs, grabbed the remainder of my breakfast and turned on my MacBook just in time to start my day without being late. My habit was to work for a couple of hours or so, then take five minute break to stand and walk around a little to avoid stiffness, so that's what I did. I was just starting evaluating this really interesting construction project for a company that we'd worked with many times before. Insurance-wise, the project had a lot of parameters to consider - safety, changing costs, workers compensation, etc, but there was the added caveat of several absolute deadlines for certain aspects of the project to be completed. Failure to meet those deadlines would result in some pretty severe financial penalties for the construction company, so they needed to have insurance available to cover those fines, should they be accrued. My typically simple workday had become much more challenging and interesting, so I buried myself in the work and all other thoughts disappeared for a while. Around eleven, I stood up and took a little stroll to the kitchen to get a quick cup of tea and stretch my legs. On my way back to my desk, I passed the little mirror we have mounted on the wall in our hallway and I stopped to look at my hair. It just did not look as good as it did the previous night. After the way that Opie had behaved the previous night and that morning, I really wanted to look nice for her when she came home. Pretty soon, my five minute break had run its course, though, so I went back to my desk and got back to work. At twelve thirty, I took my lunch break. I set a timer on my phone for fifty seven minutes so I'd be back to work in exactly an hour and began my break. I'd been nibbling on my English muffin all morning, so I wasn't that hungry. I grabbed a plum out of the refrigerator and took a bite, and once again, my attention was drawn back to the hall mirror. Now, I know my features aren't as hard as many other men my age and my somewhat-almond-shaped eyes softened them a bit, too. With my hair down, I couldn't help but think that I looked - just a bit - feminine. You'd think that would have bothered me, right? But it didn't. Not after the way that Opie had responded to me wearing that ultra-feminine nighty and robe. Instead of thinking 'you look too much like a girl,' I thought 'I wonder if Opie would like my hair better if it was more... girlie.' I had read that bending over, letting my hair fall forward and brushing the underside of my hair might 'fluff' it up a bit. So, I grabbed an old round brush in the downstairs lavatory and went back to my desk. Before I did anything I did a quick Google search about brushing your hair correctly and I ended up watching a YouTube video called 'The Right Way To Brush Your Hair' that featured an Asian woman with hair just a bit longer and fuller than mine, but she demonstrated how to properly brush your hair everyday in order to make it fuller, healthier, shinier, etc. I watched the short tutorial and took note of everything she was doing. It was pretty extensive and looked like it would take thirty minutes or more to properly brush my hair in this fashion, but what the heck? I had nothing better to do during my lunch hour that day. I restarted the video and began to mimic the technics the woman displayed. Never having done anything like this, it was a little tough at first, but I caught on. First the video instructed me to brush all my hair from side to side, creating new parts all over my head and spinning the brush to massage my scalp and loosen up any dead skin or dandruff. Then it told me to bend over and brush the underside of my hair, again spinning the brush as I went to free up excess oils. Then, I was to keep bent over, with my hair over my head and face and pull back layers of my hair as I went so that every section was brushed on the underside. This was taking me quite sometime and required a good deal of my attention, which is why I hadn't heard the front door open nor the sound of two people entering my living room. What I did hear, though was the sound of someone clearing her throat in a very theatrical manner just a few feet away from me. I froze for just a second or two to listen and be sure I'd heard someone. There was no more throat clearing, but there was the sound of a woman giggling. I pushed my hair back and sat back quickly, finding my sisters-in-law standing in the opening of my alcove, one leaning on the right side of the alcove's archway, the other leaning on the left. "Oh... hi!" I said, as cheerily and nonchalantly as I could. "Sorry. I didn't hear you come in." "Yeah. We guessed that," Emma laughed and shook her head. "What are you doing?" I thought that the answer to that question was obvious. "I'm brushing my hair. What does it look like I'm doing?" "Yes, you're brushing your hair, but in the middle of the day and in a way that - and I'm just guessing here - you never have brushed it before." Emma was smirking at me. "If my opinion matters," Josie joined in, "I think it looks better already. I like it down like that. It's prettier than the ponytail." Prettier, she'd said. Perhaps I was being too obvious, huh? "I, umm... I was going to put it back in a ponytail. I just..." I finally thought of an excuse, "...I was running late this morning and didn't have time to shower. I just wanted to get it, you know, untangled." Emma smirked at me in a way that may have indicated she knew better. "Let me see that brush." She looked at it and shook her head. "This is a lousy brush. Josie, can you run out to my car and grab my gym bag?" As Josie headed for the door, I asked, "Why do you need your gym bag?" "Because I do my hair after I workout, Kim. I have good brushes in my bag." As soon as the door closed and Josie was out of ear shot, Emma asked, "Does this have anything to do with Opie making you wear that nighty last night?" Now, just the day before, Opie had chastised me for talking to her sisters about our intimate life and now... well, I guessed that there was no point in discussing that with Emma, but I couldn't think of anything to say, besides, I was already blushing. I could feel the heat of the blush in my cheeks. "I thought so," Emma nodded and smiled. "You know, I was really ticked off at her yesterday morning when she was all revved up about the present you gave her. And then, yesterday afternoon, when she told me that she'd exchanged that beautiful nightgown for one that would fit you, I got even madder, but... well, I guess no harm was done, huh? I talked to Opie one her way to work and she said that you'd both had a lot of fun last night. So - all's well that ends well, I guess." I was still embarrassed beyond explanation, so I just shrugged. "So, I'm guessing that you're repeating the experience tonight, then?" My face must have been scarlet when I gave a reluctant nod. "Alright, then. I'll help with your hair. We won't say anything about this in front of Josie, though. I don't think she's gotten as many details as I have. Listen, though, I'm here to help if you need it. Seriously - hair, makeup, clothes, whatever. If you guys are happy, then I'm happy to help out. Remember that and don't be embarrassed to ask for help." Thank God Josie came back into the house with the gym bag, because I didn't know what to say in response to Emma's offer. Yeah, Opie and I were having some marital fun for a week or so, but Emma's offer seemed a lot more permanent than I expected. Regardless of all of that, Emma sent Josie out into the kitchen to fetch the spray bottle that Opie used to spray our ferns, while she dug out two different brushes, hair spray, a very wide toothed comb and a curling iron. "What's that for?" I asked, pointing at the last item. "It'll give your hair body. That's what you want, right?" Josie, who was far and away the most attractive of the three sisters, sat on the bench seat that was built into the area under the large windows opposite my desk and folded her very long legs. "Shy of a perm, or something like that, it's really the only way to add texture to your hair. Mine is really straight, too - well, maybe not as straight as yours, but that's because you have that fine, Asian hair - but I use a curling iron every morning, then brush it out. You like the way my hair looks, don't you?" "Well, yeah," I was still feeling very out of sorts, having this discussion, but I couldn't deny that Josie had beautiful hair, "but I'm not looking to do anything that elaborate." "Don't worry," Emma smiled. "I'm not going to go crazy. I'm just going to brush it back and make it look thicker and more... luscious." She giggled. "And sexy," Josie added with her own giggle. "Ok," I sighed, "but I need to be back online for work in forty two minutes." "Plenty of time," Emma seemed very confident as she sprayed water into my hair. Just about thirty minutes later, I had become far more familiar with the smell of hair spray and singed hair than I'd ever expected to be. "Ooh, I like it," Josie cooed, looking up from her phone, having become bored with the work being done on my hair quite some time earlier. "It's really cute, Em. Opie's going to flip when she sees him - flip in a good way, I mean. She's been saying that he needed to do something with his hair for months. She'll be pleased." "I think so, too," Emma spoke to her sister, but stared at me, checking that every hair was perfect. "I think she'll like his hair combed back off of his forehead like this. You have a really nice forehead, Kim." "A nice forehead?" I scowled. "I've never heard anyone compliment another person's forehead." She just smiled and stepped back, surveying her work once again. She nodded. "I think we're done. Come with me to the bathroom and take a look in the mirror. Tell me what you think." She looked at Josie, who's attention had returned to her phone, and said, "Would you mind throwing all of this mess back into my gym bag while I show Kimmy his new look?" She grabbed a couple of things and took my hand. "Sure," Josie shrugged and got up as I followed Emma down the hall nervously. When we reached the downstairs lavatory, Emma had me enter with my back to the mirror. "Now, before I let you turn around," she said, quietly, "I did you hair so that it would look cute with your new nightgown, ok? So, if it's too... feminine... you can always just brush the hairspray out and wear it like you always do. It will definitely look fuller, though." I nodded, more worried than before. "Ok," she said, a little excited. "Turn around." "Whoa," was all I could say as I stared at my reflection in amazement. My hair was brushed straight back, no right hand part, like I'd always worn, but it sat much higher on my head than it ever had before. Not like a bouffant thing or anything like that, just... well, as Emma had said... fuller. Much, much fuller. As if I'd somehow grown much more hair on my head. Not only did it look thicker, but it had a shine to it and just a tiny bit of body to it that seemed to inflate it all and make it look soft and rich and... and... and... pretty. Really pretty. And my pretty hair made me look... pretty... as well. Really pretty. Nothing had been done to me other than my hair being done, yet I looked, well, there's no other way to say it, I looked like my sister, if I'd had a sister. And if my sister had been a bit of a cutie. "What do you think?" Emma asked. "Well..." I needed to get my head around what I was thinking before saying anything. After a few moments, I continued. "It's... umm... it's definitely fuller, but it is a bit..." "Girly?" Emma finished my thought. "Yeah. Like I said, I did it with your nightgown games in mind. Do me a favor, though. Don't brush it out, just yet. Just let it be for the rest of the day and then, before Opie comes home, just see how it looks with the nighty. If you don't like it, brush it like you normally do. If you do like it, let Opie see it and have some more kinky fun. Ok? No harm, no foul." I shrugged and continued to look at the fascinating reflection. "Here, face me," Emma instructed, so I did. Quickly and carefully, she placed a horseshoe shaped, white plastic band, with what looked like nasty little barbs on it, on top of my head, so that it sat from behind my right ear, traveled over my head and ended just behind my left ear, and settled it into place. "What's that?" I asked, puzzled by the new addition. "It's a head band - well, an 'Alice Band,' to be more precise." She was not looking at me, but instead making sure that she had not upset my hair while installing the head band. "You're not used to having your hair hanging loosely and this will keep it out of your face. Hopefully, it'll also keep you from playing with it too much. You don't have to keep it in, but it will be easier for you if you do. Ok?" "Ok?" I shrugged. I'd already pretty much decided that I would be brushing my hair out before Opie got home, but I was kind of curious to see how it looked when I wore the nightgown - just out of curiosity, mind you - so I was going to leave it alone until I had a chance to do that. Emma leaned forward and just a little down to kiss my cheek. "You just stay here until we leave so Josie doesn't see the headband. Ok?" "Ok," I laughed just a little at this covert action. I mean, Josie had already seen me with this very girlish hairdo. Did the headband really make that big a difference. But then I looked in the mirror and realized that it really did. It made a very big difference. Especially when I noticed that there were tiny, little crystals all over the headband, making it much more decorative than I'd originally thought. "You look great," Emma assured me. "Like a perfect China doll." "I'm not Chinese," I huffed, more out of habit than anything. "I'm half Japanese." "I meant 'China' as in the pottery material that they used to make dolls out of," Emma shook her head, "but you definitely have that 'Cute Asian Girl' vibe happening." I shook my head. "You're a racist," I teased. "You're a cutie," Emma teased back as she walked down the hall and called to Josie. "Come on, JoJo. We have a house to show in a half hour. Let's get moving." When I heard the door close I breathed a bit easier. It had been a harrowing forty minutes of so with my sisters-in-law, but it had been kind of fun to be the center of attention, too. I checked my new look one more time. Definitely too girly to let Opie see - even with our little role reversal game happening, but I did want to see how it looked with the nighty on, so I would leave it until later. Just then, my alarm went off, telling me I had three minutes left of lunch. So, I put aside my fascination with my new look and took a moment to relieve my bladder before running back to my desk and signing back onto my MacBook just in time. Within minutes, I was once again buried in the challenging work I had on my desk and I lost all track of time until it was five o'clock and time to quit for the day. Now, I know this sounds funny, but I had been so engrossed in my work that I had completely forgotten about the enhancements Emma had added to my scalp. I got up and stretched and headed to the kitchen to start dinner - you know, Opie was working outside of the house and I was working at home, so cooking and cleaning had kind of fallen into my lap. I don't mean for that to sound like I resented it or anything, because I didn't. I kind of liked it actually. So, I grabbed a couple of chicken breasts that I'd been marinating out of the refrigerator and put them onto a cookie sheet and waited for the oven to heat. While that was happening, I cut up some vegetables to steam as a side dish. The oven chimed, telling me it was ready, it was a little early to put the meat in, though, so I grabbed a pot, filled it with water and set it on a burner to boil for my steamer. It was just about that time that I absentmindedly reached up to scratch my head and felt the head band and I remembered that my hair had been done very differently. I went to the downstairs lavatory and turned on the light. When I looked in the mirror, my reflection caught me by surprise all over again - and once again, I liked what I saw. My hair was neat and had not lost any of its body throughout the day. Yeah, I looked a little less masculine than usual, but I was never all that masculine to begin with. I was struck by the thought, though, of what Opie would think of me with hair like this. It was her idea, after all, for me to wear that silk and lace nighty. And it was her that got all worked up when she saw me dressed that way. Was this too much, though? Would having my hair done like this be crossing the line from some kinky playfulness to 'my husband's a fairy?' I really didn't know. I checked the time. Opie wouldn't be home for another forty five minutes or so. What the hell? I was way too curious about how I would look in the nightgown with my hair like that, so I sprinted up the stairs and was nearly naked by the time I entered our bedroom. I took the nightgown from where I'd left it hanging to dry and slipped it over my head and onto my shoulders and all of those exciting feelings from last night returned. God, why was this kind of luxury only available to women? I hurried to the tall mirror in our bedroom and looked at myself and I was not surprised to see that the reflection of 'my nonexistent sister' that I'd seen before was there again, only this time she looked even more soft and feminine and beautiful. And I felt myself getting excited. And I liked it. I swayed as I looked at my reflection and the feeling of the light material brushing against my body was wonderful and made me more excited and harder. I pulled on the sheer, lace drenched robe and tied the satin ribbon just below the bust-line and the feelings amped up even higher. I looked at myself from every direction and hung my head back so that my hair bounced and shone in the light. I fantasied about how Opie would react when she saw me this way and imagined her hands caressing me through the silk and lace. I was suddenly awakened from my reverie by the sound of something downstairs. It took me a moment to realize that what I was hearing was the sound of water boiling over in the stove. "Oh, shit," I muttered and ran out of the room and down the stairs as quickly as I could. When I got to the stove, I moved the pot off of the hot burner and shut the burner off. I checked to be sure that everything was ok, then took a breath. I checked the time, again. I still had about thirty five minutes before Opie got home, but it was time to get the chicken into the oven. I had just slid the cookie sheet into the oven and I was setting the timer on the stove when I heard a voice from behind me. "Well, well, well! It seems like I may have created a monster. Still wearing your nightgown, I see." I turned and saw Opie's smirking face. "Not still," I said. "I just put it back on, but I can explain..." She stopped me, though, with a very confused look. "What?" "Your hair," she said, but I wasn't sure how to read her intonation. Did she like it or not? "Did you do that yourself?" "No," I admitted and I felt my stomach begin to knot up. "Emma and Josie came by and Emma did my hair like this." There was a long silence as she came over and looked over my new style. Finally, I asked, "Do you like it?" She touched my hair and ran her finger along the top of the headband. "No. I don't." 'I'm sorry," I whispered, embarrassed beyond all words, but she kept touching my hair. "I'll... I'll go get changed." I made to leave the kitchen, but she stopped me with a strong, passionate kiss, pulling me tightly into a hug and squeezing my rear end in the process. "I thought you didn't like it?" I gasped when I was finally allowed to breath again. "I don't," she smirked as she kissed me again, with nearly as much force as before. "I love it." She investigated my look some more. "Emma did this? It's amazing, Kim, but you look so... womanly, I guess. I mean, I'm not a lesbian or anything, but the idea of you looking so... cute... it's just... well, I like it, I guess. You're ok with that, aren't you?" I shrugged. "Sure, I guess. I mean I never would have ever thought about wearing anything like this, but now that I have... well... I like it, too." "And the hair and that adorable headband? That's all good, too?" I nodded, but then I glanced at the stove to be sure that I'd set the timer and noticed the time on the microwave. "Hey - you're really early, aren't you?" Now, Opie suddenly looked a little guilty. "I am. I left early so I could make a stop. I got a little something to heighten our little game from last night. I was afraid I might be pushing you too far, but now that I see you, I think you'll like it." A warm tickle of excitement washed over me as she retrieved a bag she'd left by the kitchen doorway and put it in the table. "I thought that I might be able to convince you to wear your nighty while we sat and watched TV before bedtime, but I didn't want you to be uncomfortable... down there. You know, having your little friend flopping around or getting stiff and ruining the line of your nighty. So," she reached into her bag and pulled out something, "this." The 'something' that she pulled out turned out to be a pair of panties. They appeared to be very sheer, but when she handed them to me, I realized that there was a flesh toned liner inside. The outside was a peach color, nearly identical to the color of my nightgown, but not a solid fabric. Instead, the peach colored threads formed lacy roses that stood out against the beige liner. They were very pretty. So pretty, in fact, that I gulped as I considered wearing them - which was, to be honest, the only thing I could think of at all at that moment. "Try them on," Opie said, sounding nearly as excited as I felt. I bent and slipped my feet through the leg holes and pulled them up to my hips, trapping my somewhat excited member inside. "Do like them?" Opie asked. Trying not to sound too enamored of them, I shrugged and held up my nightgown so I could see how pretty they really looked. "I guess. I mean, they are very pretty. Do you like them?" "Of course I do,"she laughed. "I wouldn't have bought them If I didn't, or if I didn't think you'd look adorable in them. Do you like the style? Those are boy shorts." "I never knew any boys that wore shorts like these," I giggled as I ran my hands across the rose shaped lace covering. "They sure feel nice, though." "Good, because I got you six similar ones in different styles, but all of them the same color to match your nighty." My eyes must have displayed my shock as I looked at my wife, because she chuckled and said, "You agreed to wear it for a week, right? There's six nights left in the week. One pair for each night." I let the skirt of the nightgown drop and felt the soft material caress the newly added panties and I smiled. "I guess I can suffer through a whole week in clothes this soft." Opie smiled. "Good, because I have something else for you." She reached into her bag and pulled out a peach colored bra with cups that had to have some padding in them because they were already shaped like a woman's breasts, even without a woman wearing it. "A bra?" I asked, despite the fact that I knew exactly what she was holding. "Why? I don't have anything that a bra can support." "So you may think," she grinned. "This is called a 'lift' bra. It's a really good 'push-up' bra. It helps to create cleavage on the most flat chested women. I think it'll give you a little something to play with." Why was I skeptical, I really can't say, but Opie's claims seemed pretty silly. Beyond that, though, I think that the bra actually frightened me much more than the nightgown or the hair stuff. I mean, the hair kind of happened accidentally the previous night and I really put on the nightgown just to prove to Opie that a person didn't change who they were just because of the clothes they wore. The problem was, though - I was wrong. That nightgown had completely changed me. I was an entirely different person in bed the previous night than I'd ever been before, and now... well, I though of myself a bit differently. I can't really explain it much beyond that, but it was the truth. I had just pulled on a pair of lace covered panties without a second thought. Forty eight hours earlier, I wouldn't have even considered that. I was normal, run of the mill, cis-gendered male who has never even considered anything remotely kinky or perverse, and here I was - hair done in a sparkly headband, panties, a silk nighty and chiffon robe. So why did this bra give me pause? Maybe because I wanted to try it on a bit too much. But, for whatever reason, I just froze and looked at the bra in Opie's hand. "What's the matter?" she asked. "Here. Take it. It won't bite you." Strange words, indeed, from the woman who refused to even consider wearing the beautiful nightgown I'd given her a day earlier.