The Uniform Ch. 03

Still looking at the jacket sleeve from the bed, Naomi thought for a few minutes longer. She could start something now, in the late afternoon, or she could wait until after dinner. Or, she could not do anything at all and see where the rest of the day goes.

Naomi turned her head away from the closet and relaxed for a few moments, enjoying the quiet and solitude.

___________

Luke was about three-fourths of way through his stack of paperwork. He had surprised himself with the amount of organization he had gotten done, and, now that the end of the stack was in site, he was motivated to get it all done before dinner. As he filed another paper for what seemed like the hundredth time that afternoon, Naomi's voice came from behind him.

"Hello Dear. How's it going?"

"I'm almost done," Luke replied, already trying to steer the conversation toward a result that would allow him to finish his task.

"That's good."

Luke glanced over at his wife. She was standing with a shoulder propped in the doorway to the office, arms folded across her chest and feet crossed at the ankle. She was wearing everyday sweats and her hair was down.

"I'll probably be done in about 30 minutes," Luke said.

"Okay."

"How are things going for you?" Luke asked.

"Good -- I'm done for the day," Naomi said as she arched her eyebrows. "I got a lot done."

"That's good," Luke replied, "I know you really needed some time today, so I was trying to leave you alone."

"Thank you for that."

"Yes."

"Okay, well, I guess I'm just gonna go hang out until you're done."

"Sounds good. Thank you Dear."

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Naomi asked.

Luke considered this for a moment, then responded, "No thanks. I'm almost done, so it would probably take longer to bring you up to speed on how I've set this up than it would for me to just do it."

"Okay, well, let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks, I will," Luke said as he returned to the stack of papers. He heard her open the snack cabinet, pull something down, then pour herself a drink of water before walking back toward the bedroom.

___________

Naomi returned to the bedroom and set her drink and snack down on top of the dresser. The conversation she just had with her husband was all she needed to decide that she was going to initiate some role-playing romance this afternoon. She quickly opened several drawers at the top of the dresser, searching for her thigh high stockings. When she had put on the uniform several months ago, she, invoking the privilege that allows Generals to wear whatever combination of uniform components they want, had worn sheer black thigh highs. Today, as an eager-to-please Captain, she thought she'd wear nude colored stockings. If she could find them.

As she dug through her various articles of clothing, she thought about any other differences she might try for this round. Other than the different pins on the exterior of the uniform, there wasn't a whole lot of room for variability. Underneath, however, was a different story. Maybe she would skip the garter slip this time, instead opting for standard undergarments...well, a standard bra, anyway. The standard panties for her uniform were actually no panties at all.

She started to warm up, so she took off her sweatshirt. Where were those darn thigh highs? She stepped back, trying to think. The last time she had worn stockings -- of any color -- was to work a few weeks ago, when she was in a bit of pinch for any kind of hosiery to go with her business suit. She had worn the sheer black ones that day, but she knew she had seen the nude stockings, still in their packaging, that same morning when she was getting dressed. Yet she couldn't remember where she had seen them, and was starting to feel mildly stressed.

Maybe I should just go without? Naomi thought to herself. She was feeling anxious about getting the uniform on before Luke finished his work. Naomi had an idea for starting this escapade, and it was, in part, dependent on Luke still working in the office when he next saw her.

"Uuuugggghh," Naomi sighed under her breath. This shouldn't be so hard, she thought. When she heard an extended pause in activity coming from the section of the house where she knew Luke to be, she thought Luke had finished his office tasks. She was just about to give up on her effort and postpone it for another time when she heard him resume. How many more times that would happen before he was actually done, however, was unknowable, and she didn't want him to walk in on her when she was not fully prepared. Her stress level rose.

She decided to put on the uniform; the thigh highs simply weren't turning up and she had no idea where else to look. Should she suddenly remember, they could rather easily be put on after everything else.

As she stepped into the closet and cleared space around the uniform hanging in the back, she noticed the light green, short sleeved, button down shirt that she had acquired with the rest of the uniform. She hadn't paid any attention to it earlier that day, when she had engrossed herself in modifying the jacket. Another authorized uniform component from back when the Army wore this style, the short sleeved shirt could be worn with the skirt, untucked, and without the jacket and undershirt. In such a combination, this would constitute the Army's Class B uniform. Not worn for formal occasions, but appropriate for office work.

Interesting... she thought to herself. She hadn't worn this shirt yet -- she only acquired it because it was available at a discount when she bought the other parts. She glanced at the long sleeved button down blouse, on which she had put the Captain's rank earlier that day, then made a quick decision: today's uniform would be different, after all. Instead of the full regalia presented by the Class A jacket, she would wear the much simpler short sleeve shirt. She pulled it off the closet rack and held it up in the light. It was in good condition, free of wrinkles and creased down the outside of the sleeves. She hung it on the hook on the closet door, then made a quick transfer of rank from the long sleeved to short sleeved shirt. Next, she pulled the nameplate, "Naomi," off of the jacket, and pinned it appropriately over the left breast of the short sleeved shirt, using the vertical dart on that side of the front as a guide.

"That was easy," Naomi thought to herself as she stepped back to behold the creation. Much simpler than the assembly process she went through with the jacket.

She could still hear movement in the office, which reassured her that her plan was still feasible, especially considering the now-significantly reduced uniform requirements. Stepping back to the dresser, she selected a rather normal, everyday bra. Tan colored and full coverage, it wasn't going to win any sexy-ness contests, but it did do an effective job at enhancing her bust. Naomi was certain this would look good under the light, rather airy blouse she had just selected.

Next, she pulled her hair into a tight bun low on the back of her head. She discarded her sweats and quickly donned the skirt, using her hands to smooth it over her thighs. Other than hang it back up, she hadn't done anything with it since she last wore it, so it did not have as pressed an appearance as it would have had it been used in an official capacity, but for Naomi's purposes, it would do just fine. She then pulled on the blouse, buttoned it up -- she had to tug slightly to close it around her breasts -- and grabbed her black pumps.

Suddenly, and epiphany struck. Under the bed! she almost exclaimed out loud. She stepped over to the bed and knelt to pull out a storage bin that she knew housed her stockings, garter slip, and other uniquely romantic items. When she opened it, there were all her thigh highs, including the nude ones still in their packaging, seemingly beckoning to be worn.

Perfect, she said to herself as she pulled out the package, closed the bin, and slid it back under the bed. As she extracted the stockings from the cardboard container, she paused. Another idea hit her, and she decided she wouldn't put them on. Not yet. Shoes in one hand and stockings in the other, she looked at herself in the full length mirror, confident in her appearance. She had a good feeling about this afternoon...evening...night. Not that she had any reason to think anything would go poorly, but it had been a little stressful getting into her uniform in such a hurried, clandestine fashion. Luke had a tendency to stumble upon her playful secrets before she was ready to divulge, but today that fortunately hadn't happened.

Still barefoot, she walked out of the bedroom carrying her shoes and thigh highs, and silently made her way to the office where she heard Luke working. On a side table in the hallway, Naomi noticed her black framed, rectangular glasses. Her uncorrected vision was fine, but she did have a weak prescription to help her see distance at night. Luke had often commented on how hot the glasses looked on her, so she quickly decided to put them on now -- another difference from their romp a few months ago compared to today's soon-to-be adventure.

As she rounded the corner and her husband came into view, she quietly waited a few seconds in the doorway, looking at him. He was seated, with his back turned, and appeared to be reading a paper in his hand -- he did not seem to know that she was there, which was how she wanted things. Before doing anything, she watched with a small smile. Her husband was highly focused when he wanted to be, and, though she knew his mental state was likely far from hugs and kisses at the moment, she found it sexy.

That thought was followed by a moment of uncertainty. It struck her that if Luke was in work-mode, he might not take to well to her attempts at distraction. Should she leave him alone and retreat, with him none-the-wiser? She quietly stepped back around the corner, partially out of sight in case he turned around. Naomi considered things for a moment, but decided that even if he wasn't in the mood, she didn't have anything to lose. Honestly, what were the chances that he wasn't in the mood? She figured that even if he was initially reserved toward the idea, she could properly motivate him with just a little persistence.

She stepped back into the doorway to the office, confidence fully restored.

"Hello, Sir," she said.

A pause as Luke's head lifted and turned toward her. She heard him catch his breath, then saw a grin appear as he beheld her. She followed his eyes -- they seemed to take in the uniform she was wearing quickly enough, but a mild puzzlement appeared when he saw her pumps and stockings in her hands. Moving before he could say anything, Naomi put the shoes down and propped a leg up on the nearby windowsill, hitching her skirt up slightly in the process.

She began donning a stocking, wrapping it over her foot and rolling it smoothly up her leg. "Is there anything I can help you with?" she repeated her question from 20 minutes ago.

Luke's grin grew into a full smile. He raised his eyebrows, and appeared to search for words. All he mustered was, "Uhhhhh," with his voice trailing off.

"Hmm?" came Naomi's reply.

"Uhhhh, I don't know. I was just wrapping up some things in here."

"Oh. Well, I'm here to help you in any way I can," Naomi replied as she finished rolling on her first stocking and switched to the other leg. She was acutely aware of her husband staring at her. As expected, he appeared happy, but also unsure of what to say.

She finished putting on the second thigh high, then stepped into her shoes. The heels clicked on the hardwood floor. She ran her hands down her hips, smoothing out her skirt once again, and stood before her still speechless husband. She broke eye contact, briefly wondering if he hadn't noticed the change in her rank from the last time -- that is, that this time, it was his turn to be in charge. She decided to drop another hint.

"Can I help with any of that paperwork, Sir?" she asked with a smile. After Luke's work, the stack of paper was barely anything now.

Luke appeared to compose himself. He broke eye contact and seemingly stepped into role, then said, "Umm, no thanks. I can wrap this up pretty quickly on my own." He looked back up at her. "I do have something else I want you to do, however."

Captain Naomi had just been created.

"Yes, Sir?" Naomi replied, enthusiastically. She expected him to have her drop to her knees and take him in her mouth...so she was mildly surprised when he said, "Go get your computer."

"Uhhh...yes...Sir," she said, genuinely curious as to where this might be going. Her computer was provided to her by her work, so if he was planning to do anything untoward with it, she might have to step out of role for a minute. She thought about this as she retrieved her computer from the living room. He wasn't thinking of browsing some websites of ill repute...was he?

Naomi returned to the office, where Luke had resumed filing papers. What was this? she thought to herself. Was he not in the mood? She held the computer up to him and said, "Here it is, Sir." A hint of bashfulness was in her voice.

"Thank you. Have a seat and pull up the New Technologies presentation," Luke confidently replied.

What the hell? Naomi thought as she logged into her computer and complied. Luke continued to busy himself by shuffling papers, glancing in Naomi's direction occasionally to check on her progress.

When the presentation was loaded, Luke said, "I'd like you to brief this to me." He set his papers aside and leaned back in his chair as he crossed his legs with one ankle on the opposite knee. Naomi could glean no sexual desire from him at this moment, and she felt awkward. Had the uniform lost its sex appeal? Did I change it too much from the first time? She thought she looked pretty good, but maybe the glasses, nude thigh highs, and lack of a jacket were not doing it for him. Why in the world is he having me present work slides to him? She had given this presentation a few weeks ago, and still had most of it memorized, so it wouldn't be hard to do...but where was this going? If he wanted to see me doing my real job, I didn't need to put on an Army uniform to support that.

Somewhat abashedly, she began speaking.

"Sure. Okay. Thank you for being here today, Sir. I've prepared a brief presentation for you to help us discuss some of the new technologies our company is exploring, and hope to get your input on where you think we should next direct our research efforts."

Naomi paused to show the next slide, then continued: "We have four areas currently under analysis: intelligent robotics, nanotechnology, additive manufacturing, and cryogenics. The first field, intelligent ro—"

Luke cut her off. "I have a question."

"Of course. Go ahead. Sir." Going through a work presentation and not knowing where Luke's mind was at, she was finding it a little hard to stay in the role of Captain Naomi.

"Those fields sound interesting. But I want to analyze you."

Now this might be more like it, she thought. "Yes, Sir? What would you like to analyze about me?"

"Please tell me: what color is your underwear?" Luke asked, conveying about as much emotion as a doctor asking a patient about dietary habits.

Relieved, Naomi tried unsuccessfully to suppress her smile. Under more normal circumstances, Luke and Naomi liked to jokingly ask each other this question at random moments. In this instance, however, Naomi had to think about her response. Should she make something up? Servicemembers are supposed to wear underwear, after all, so her present absence of such would be grounds for some...disciplinary action. Maybe that's what Luke was counting on, in which case, she should tell the truth. Alternatively, she could tell him something else, only to be caught in a lie later, which would certainly be punishable as well. With either choice, then, she would likely be falling right into Luke's plan. Impressive, she thought to herself, I sprung this round with the uniform on him with no warning, and yet he has a whole plan ready to go. The presentation, the question...Naomi was newly excited to see where this was headed.

She decided to tell him the truth. In a somewhat quiet, but sultry voice, "I'm not wearing any panties. My bra is nude colored, and I think you saw my stockings, Sir."

"Ah, indeed. No panties?"

"Yes, that's correct, Sir."

"Why not?"

"I just didn't want to wear them under my skirt, Sir. The skirt..." Naomi stood and turned so her flank was facing him, "is a bit snug around my hips and backside. If I wear panties, a pantyline would show." For emphasis, Naomi ran her hand slowly down her hip.

Luke smiled very slightly, then said stoically, "I see."

"Is this a problem, Sir?"

"I'm not sure yet. In the meantime," Luke pointed back to the computer, "please continue."

Naomi complied, but lasted just a moment before Luke interrupted her again.

"Captain Naomi, going back to the information you shared about your lack of underwear, how does that feel?"

"What?" Naomi replied, slightly out of role and not really understanding the question.

"How does it feel to be wearing that skirt with no underwear? Is it any different? A little breezy, perhaps?"

"Oh," she replied, now understanding, "yes, Sir, it's a little different. I feel a little breeze up high between my legs sometimes, depending on what I'm doing. And quite honestly, it's a bit more comfortable. I feel more...free."

"I see. Interesting. Will you please come sit on the desk next to me?"

Naomi complied, resting on the edge of the desk right next to where he was parked on the office chair. She watched his eyes run up and down her body, then level on her abdomen. Then he reached out and slid a hand down her side, over her hip and the top of her thigh, coming to a stop on her knee.

Luke continued. "So as your commanding officer, it is my duty to make sure you are fully aware of all regulations, including the proper wear and appearance of your uniform."

"Yes, Sir."

"What I like about your wear of the Class B uniform is that the shirt, while snug around your perfect breasts, is actually a little peaky when you bend forward. I'm not sure how you are doing that, but it's fantastic. I like how that teases."

Naomi hadn't noticed that the shirt did this, and didn't know what to say. "Oh...well that's great...I honestly didn't realize it was doing that...is my shirt showing too much?" Naomi asked as she leaned forward slightly, then reached around to her lower back to pull the shirt tail down, thus closing the downward window through the neckline to her bust. Teasing, at its finest.

"No! Not at all. We might be taking that off soon, anyway."

"Oh?" Naomi replied, feigning innocence.

"Yes. But first, let me finish this counseling on your wear of the uniform."

"Yes Sir, of course."

"Everything else looks great. We do have a problem with the underwear, however. We are supposed to wear underwear with our uniforms."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Sir. I thought..." Naomi said, playing along.

"Well, here's the thing," he said, as he patted her on the knee. "The regulations say you should have underwear on, but you bring up valid points about the pantylines and comfort. I also, personally, think that your decision not to wear underwear today makes the work ahead of us a bit easier. So I'm not sure I really want to enforce that standard, in this case. I have that authority, as your commander."

"How is my lack of underwear going to make our work easier, Sir?"

"May I show you?" Luke asked, as he slid his hand to the inside of her knee.