Magic Dress Pt. 03

I had been wearing dresses at home for quite a while now, with my wife's encouragement. The first one I tried was very special and we called it The Dress. It just made me happy. On Wednesdays I was sucked off while wearing it. On Fridays I dress up as Sexy Sally and fuck her. On Saturdays, for her entertainment not mine, she would dress me in various outfits and put on different makeup as if playing with a doll.

It was about a year later, when I knew something was up. Finally it came out.

"You know Jean and I are good friends?"

"Well, she's my best friend and I would really like to share our secret with her. She's divorced with no relatives, and she doesn't work for your company any more. We were talking about how we loved our dolls when we were younger, and I was desperate to tell her about my dolly and show her the pictures."

"You didn't!?"

"No, of course not. And I only mean about dressing you up on Saturday, not anything else."

"No," I said. "No way, no."

A few weeks later, she said "Let's ask The Dress". Now this is silly, but whenever we had some particularly difficult choice to make, I put on The Dress and we discussed it. Then we did whatever we felt was right. Yes, very silly, but the psychology seemed to work.

"No need," I said. "We know the answer. It's no."

I put on The Dress. And the answer was 'yes'. Nobody spoke, and I did not have any rational arguments in my head, but somehow deep down I must have wanted something. Probably for the joy my wife would get from sharing with another woman. Or was it the thrill of doing something dangerous? If anyone at work got to know, I would have to resign and move far away.

I was so worried, but next time I was sucked off, it seemed to be all right.

Jean came round one day when I was the Man Not in a Dress. As she came through the door, she grabbed me and kissed me hard. "You are a saint!" she exclaimed. "A husband in a million! To allow your wife to dress you up like that, though it must be embarrassing. God! How many women would love to have a doll like you to play with? If my husband had done that, I would never have divorced him, no matter who he was screwing! What a lucky, lucky woman to be loved so much!"

Was my face red? Yes, you bet.

So we had tea, and the women chatted happily about other things. All I could think of was how I would put on The Dress as soon as we were alone. Then they began whispering, which was a bad sign. I think my ability to notice details and read a situation was now ten times what it was before, which was probably about ten percent of that of the average woman, but I knew something was up and what I thought I knew what it was.

"Darling, would you be an angel," Eve began. (Note to men: darling and angel so close together mean she definitely wants something.) "And let Jean see you in a skirt and blouse?"

It wasn't really a question, so off we went and a while later I appeared in simple makeup and a wig. The smaller bra and a skirt just above the knee, with white lace pull-up stockings. Actually very prim and proper. A smart woman at the office. By some miracle, I did not have an erection. I think it had been frightened away.

I you can picture a seven year old girl showing a new dolly to her best friend, I don't really need to say much about the next couple of hours. "Oh, she's gorgeous!" said Jean. "That's the best dolly in the world!" I felt strangely proud. The first thing Jean did was to lift up my skirt at the back to admire my French knickers - apparently that is what little girls always do.

I stood, I walked around, I sat down and was instructed to put my knees together, and my legs a bit sideways. They both put their hands on me without any hesitation and moved my head and hands to get a pose, then stood back to consider the result. Then I was standing there with the skirt and blouse off while they admired my underwear and discussed the merits of different styles. They tried me with a slip which was part of the set, agreed it was very nice, and took it off. Jean said she would like to see tan stockings, so I was changed and dressed again in the skirt and blouse. Then black stockings and finally agreed that the white lace were best. They tried a couple of different tops, but went back to the blouse. I had to walk around and display myself dressed exactly as I was before, and they were satisfied.

Except for the makeup that is. So for half an hour or more they were wiping off and drawing on again, and I had several lipsticks. So far as I could tell when they got me to look in the mirror, it was exactly the same as when they started.

Finally, they sat down and gazed at me with shining eyes as they sighed deeply. "Phew!" said Jean that's the most fun I've had I years." They then agreed how wonderful it had been to share, and how very, very good I had been. Jean said it was better having a man as a dolly because they did not have to consider my actual bust, and they could not compare themselves with another woman.

As soon as Jean had gone, we hurried to get the right bra and put on The Dress. "Let's take off your wig. I don't think she likes it." So I did, and we were all three happy. I sat down carefully with my knees together and my legs to one side, and got a nod of approval, and then, of course, thanks.

"My hero!" she said. "How did you put up with it? And how did you keep yourself from getting hard with two women handling you."

"Willpower," I said.

"Well next time, don't worry. Jean won't mind. In fact I think we both might like it. And if you get desperate, I'll take you to the bathroom and give you a good wank. Jean will understand."

Next time?

So most Saturdays, the dolly had two girls playing with her. And they were amused how a boy's thing went up and down as they played. (They really talked like this, like little girls.) They bought several pairs of shoes. I couldn't really walk in them, but they were satisfied if I wore them standing up or sitting to complete the outfit. And I always got a wank part way through. "I wish I could help," said Jean. And next time she did. We had asked The Dress, of course.

"Oh God!" she said as I spurted. "That's wonderful! I haven't so much as seen a cock since well before the divorce. It felt so good in my hand. I can't thank you enough, both of you." So that became part of Saturday, but did not stop us making love in the evening.

A few months later, The Dress decided to do something very important. When Jean came in, I was already wearing it, or her. I had learned to put on the simple makeup which we felt The Dress deserved, though I never felt the need with the others.

Jean put her hands to her cheeks and gasped in amazement. "That is so beautiful, and you look wonderful in it. No wonder you didn't want me to put it on. It must be so special to you."

So we told her how it started and how I liked to relax in a dress, but didn't want to be a girl in any other way, except to please my wife.

"Wow!" said Jean. "You must be the most masculine man I have ever met. To be so confident in yourself as a man to be able to do those things, is just staggering. No wonder you were able to manage situations so well with that confidence, and of course that's why you treated women so well. And you do look so good in that amazing dress."

The Dress approved of her and what she said.

So I was happy at work, was the Man in a Dress at home and had a special if unusual relationship with two women. Three, if you count The Dress, and you must always include her. I didn't think things could get any better, but they did.

Eve asked me to put on The Dress as she had something to ask me: something important. (We had discovered that we saved hours of discussion this way.)

"You know how Jean likes to give you a handjob. Do you think you could possibly fuck her occasionally, because I know she would love it?"

"You, my wife, are asking me to fuck your best friend?"

"Well yes. You could do it before we start on Saturdays. It wouldn't be cheating and it would make no real difference to me if you had a wank or a fuck with her. I think we all like each other, and I don't see the harm. She's been without it for so long, I would really love to help her."

I consulted The Dress and said "OK, but what about the other thing?"

"What other thing?"

"You and Jean. You want to fuck her, don't you, or whatever lesbians call it."

"Oh," she said. "You realised."

"Of course," I said. "I've learned a lot about observing women and I've known it for ages. You can get turned on by other women; that's why we had Sexy Sally. And it's clear that you are a lot more than friends. I don't know why you took so long to come out with it. By the way, The Dress says yes."

She agreed, but said she wasn't a lesbian since she liked sex with a man very much. According to her magazines 60% of women were attracted to other women, which tended to increase with age, and 45% had actually made out with other women. Apparently young women were more gender fluid these days and it was not considered remarkable to have sex with both boys and girls. She added that Jean was also keen to have cock, as I might have noticed, but she was a good friend who would like to make more physical contact with her.

So that's how it worked. Jean came round on Saturday, and my first duty was to fuck her. It was actually convenient to start being a dolly when I had just come and was limp, though I was often hard again before they had finished. I didn't fully understand what they got out of the costume changes and poses, but there was no doubt it was a great joy to them both. It was also another joy to them to go to the bedroom together afterwards for a couple of hours. If anything, this made my dear wife hornier for me on Sunday!

One Saturday before Jean came round, she dressed me up as Sexy Sally. Jean could not have been more delighted to be fucked by this Man in Suspenders! She also insisted on wanking me off after playing with the dolly but before going off to bed for the next stage of the girls' entertainment.

Eventually Jean moved into the spare bedroom, and we had a more varied week, but one thing remained sacrosanct. At least twice a week I put on The Dress and we all appreciated it. Once Jean wanted to suck me off, but The Dress did not approve.

Jean, of course, was about the same size as me, which meant there were a lot more clothes for me to try on, and meant they could go shopping together without me, which was convenient. I had to use the bigger bra, of course. They particularly enjoyed me in her sexy underwear. She had a set in black lace with a bra (to which I added the silicone helpers of course) and high-waisted briefs with suspenders and a sort of mesh rear to be see-through and show my bum. When I wore this with black stockings, she squealed with delight! (It is still one of her favourites on the dolly.) Jean also had a thong with quite a large front panel which I am able to wear (but don't like that much) as part of a dolly outfit, so they can giggle when they lift my skirt at the back. (They still do.)

I quite liked a couple of printed cotton nightdresses, which were very simple and covered the shoulders, really a sort of nightshirt. They became my regular night attire, and I was bought a couple more. The girls also had the sexier ones with bare shoulders and lace and ruffles etc. and took to wearing them or sexy underclothes, especially on Sunday. They liked showing off to another woman, and bought more. I hadn't properly appreciated how much women did this. It was funny having a late breakfast with me in my demure nightie and two women flaunting themselves. When it came to sexy clothes the one thing I could not do (of course) was a low-cut bust, so they treated each other a little like a dolly in this way, admiring each other and also wanting the Man in a Dress to appreciate them, which I was happy to do. However, they never did this to the Man in The Dress, which would have been disrespectful. It was clear to all of us that she did not like competition or distractions.

We bought one of the clothes rails they have in shops (the proper heavy duty ones) to cope with the extra clothes. The Dress, of course, keeps its place of honour in the wardrobe. I have about dozen dresses and a chemise which is technically underwear, but I wear as a dress. I would wear the same dress every day, but instead the girls choose a different one for me. I will occasionally agree to wear a bra with it, but as they take theirs off when they come home I don't do it much!

So now I don't think I could be happier. I have a great job and my home life is spent relaxing as the Man in a Dress, having various kinds of sex with two women and sharing with them an appreciation of women in general. I get a fuck or a wank every day, and often both, so their girl on girl activities had not done me any harm. It is clear they both continue to appreciate some cock, and I am glad to supply it. I also enjoy watching them make love to each other. I even found I was looking forward to being a dolly on Saturday, and began to make my own comments and suggestions. And it's all thanks to The Dress. It must be magic.