RELUCTANT PRESS

"Yes Mom. Good night," I said, rushing to get to my room unseen. How would I ever explain my appearance to her? "Come give me a kiss," she said.

What could I say? I prayed that the combination of the darkness and my mother's sleepy condition would keep her from noticing. Fat chance! By now, I had gotten used to the rustling of the petticoats but of course Mom had not. And my perfume could not be hidden by the darkness. Mom turned on the light on her night stand and I froze like a thief caught in the act.

"You didn't think that you were going to sneak in without me getting a look at you, did you?" said Mom, with no look of shock or surprise on her face. "Turn around and let me see how you look."

"Mom, let me explain..."

"Danny, I know all about it. Mrs. Wales called and asked if it was all right and told me why you needed to wear girl's clothes. I thought it would be fun and besides, it's not the first time, is it? Now go get ready for bed and be sure to remove all your make-up. You look very pretty, Danny," said Mom wistfully as I kissed her good night.

I went to my room and began the task of removing the numerous garments. It sure took a lot longer than usual. I found a long satin nightie laid out on my bed. My pajamas were under my pillow where I had put them that morning. With just a second of hesitation, I pulled the nightie over my head and slipped between the sheets. It took me a long time to get to sleep. My head was spinning and no doubt every male, and female, hormone in my body was on high alert. I had just had the first date of my life!

And with the prettiest and most popular girl in school! And she had told me she loved me!

Well, almost. And then the other side of the coin.

She loved me as long as I was wearing panties and petticoats and all that stuff. She loved me because I kept her room neat and clean and her clothes neatly pressed. She loved me because I was a meek, obedient little pansy!

I had no doubt that if I called her up tomorrow and asked her to go out on a real date as boyfriend and girlfriend that she would refuse and it would have nothing to do with Jack seeing us together. I knew that if my relationship with Susie,

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RUFFLES & CURLES

By Kammi Morton

weird as it was, was to continue that I would indeed learn how to fasten my own bra and roll up my stockings and apply my own make-up because I would be doing it again and again.

So how did I feel about all this?

Needless to say I was thrilled about having Susie as a friend. And I had to admit, my nervousness aside, that I had enjoyed getting all fixed up tonight, from my hair to my make-up to my pretty lingerie to the rustle of my petticoats to the strange but exciting pulls and strains of the unfamiliar undergarments. And did I not just slip into a lovely nightie without anyone telling me to? Couldn't I just have easily tossed it aside and put on my flannel pajamas? Why did I think that it was for me? Maybe my mother had just left it there by mistake? But there was no way that I was not going to enjoy the feel of the soft, slippery material against my skin.

Had I crossed over a line that I could not get back across? -000-

When I awoke the next morning I was sure that I had dreamed the entire episode, but the silky nightie and my painted nails told me it had all been true. I showered and dressed, putting on my new panties, and summoned the courage to ask my Mom to borrow her nail polish remover. "Let me see!," she asked, taking my hands in hers. "They look lovely, why do you want to take it off?"

"MOM! I can't go to work with nail polish. Most of the women probably think I'm a sissy as it is and this would just confirm it."

"Oh, all right. We don't have time now so do it in the car." I did leave my toenail polish on but carefully removed every trace of the stuff on my fingers.

Mrs. Wales came in and while I shampooed her hair she asked if I had a good time last night. It was a little embarrassing to discuss it with her and I just said yes. I knew she was looking for more.

While Mom set her hair she remarked on what a nice boy I was and how good I was to Susie. "You have brought him up very well, Donna. Just the way a boy should be raised." "Thank you Marge. I'm pretty proud of him too," replied my mother.

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