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flowing about my body as I moved. By the time we had tried on all of them we decided it was time to retire anyway. I kept on the lilac nightie, and wore it that night.

At first I was self-conscious of my unmanly attire, feeling insecure and very odd. I knew I wasn't the story book Price Charming and these 'forbidden' clothes brought out all my 'manly' insecurities.

Being surrounded by the dainty material and the intermingling of our nighties was very luxurious and actually sexy sparking a impassioned union.

The next morning when we awoke, her first question was: "Darling, how did you like your pretty nightie?"

"I'm astonished, it's actually okay," I replied, “I had no idea it would feel so lovely and luxurious; I am afraid I am going to like them much better than my pajamas. Are you serious about me wearing them?"

"Sure. I felt that if you would try wearing them you would love them," she replied smilingly, "It's odd but I somehow knew you'd like them much better than your old pajamas."

"Where did you ever get the idea?" I asked.

"Oh, seeing you in the apron. . .I just thought it up all by my own little self," she replied, "I knew how lovely they were, and I could not see why you should not enjoy them too."

Before we were on the way down to cook breakfast she asked, "Then you won't mind doing your chores while wearing your pretty night gowns instead of pajamas, will you?"

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"Darling, why not," I replied, "if you prefer me in a nighty, I certainly will wear it."

That day Mary moved all of my men's pajamas to a box in the closet and neatly place the nightgown in their old position. Since that time I have worn night gowns without the slightest desire to return to my former style of pajamas. I was embarrassed at first when I catch her looking at me. Once I realized that she wasn't 'laughing' at me for my unmanly attire, I was contented doing my chores in nighty and apron.

This was my introduction to the delight of dainty, lovely feminine things, and I shall always remember it as a delightful and lovely experience. At the time I had no idea what I was getting 'into'.

CHAPTER 3

A few days later, Mary bought me a couple of house coats, and a pair of mules to wear with my night gowns. "Your boudoir outfit should be complete," she explained, "While doing your housework, you need something to slip over your gown. Also you can't go about barefooted, and men's shoes wouldn't be suitable. You might as well get used to the mules."

"Darling," I replied, "Are you sure?; it is easy to get used to such lovely things."

"That, my dear, is a risk I am entirely willing to take," she replied, "I want you to get used to and to enjoy wearing your lovely things. I guess I feel less guilty about asking you to do woman's work when you're dressed like this."

The following month were both swamped with work in the store. We both resisted but we had to