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in a graceful, feminine way. "So that is what they feel like," he said. "I like the sensation."

He looked lovely, with his skin flushed and eyes sparkling, as he walked back and forth, testing the new fellings; his worried frown disappeared, and he looked so much better, lighter, and gentle. I knew then that my notions had been correct, and I knew that I could tie him to me forever.

Right after that, while browsing in a fabric store that is one thing that my job downtown in the advertising agency did for me; I could search for fabrics and patterns. I found a crepe-backed satin. The sales lady told me that each side of the fabric could be used on the outside, and that it was completely washable. Now there was some- thing that fit perfectly into my plans. I quickly chose a lovely lilac color, bought enough yardage, and for Christmas my hubby got a satin caftan, a special one with the sides flared so that when he moved, the satin which I placed on the inside caressed his body all the way down to his toes.

I had made sure that Bill could choose from all of my slacks, and that I had plenty of feminine ones that he could wear. He wore a pair of black velvet ones, together with a white-sheer blouse with full sleeves, looking absolutely beautiful for the occasion. He unwrapped his package and lifted the satin garment out of the tissue paper, and his face lit up with pleasure. After a quick kiss and hug to show his satisfaction, he pulled his pretty things off and slipped the caftan over his head. It fitted him perfectly, and he was pleased with it. He wore it all day long, and that night, he wore it to bed, just as I had hoped that he would. We had a sweet union with wonderful close- ness, me in my long ruffly night gown, and him aroused in his satin - what should I call it — his nightgown. He wore it to bed constantly after that, revelling in the luxurious feeling that it gave him. The next morning, he kissed me, and told me how delicious it made him feel, and best of all, he put in a request for other night gowns.

He helped me design others, all satin, full sleeves, ruffles at the wrist and neck, full folds of cloth falling to the floor. He looked charming as he traipsed around the apartment, and I could tell that he was learn- ing the sensation of having skirts ripple and sway around his legs. He loved the sensation that the soft fabric gave to his body, sensa- tions that we women take for granted, and even reject as being im-