I Want To Be Dressed As A Girl By A Girl
I went out with my mother -in-law again that week. I saw the girl at the supermarket checkout again. She told me I looked pretty, which made me blush. She also told me what her normal working hours were, so now when I go out shopping on my own I always go to her checkout. She always gives me a big smile and I feel she is a real friend, even though I don’t really know anything about her and have never met up with her anywhere else. I often wonder if she is friendly to me because she realises that I have been sissified by my wife and mother-in-law.
On Friday the dressmaker rang to say that the maid’s uniforms were ready. So on Saturday Alice and her mother accompanied me to go and try them on. I had been practising and could now (with a bit of a struggle) reach the back zip of my dress. On this occasion, my wife helped me and I stepped out of the dress. “You’ll need to take your slip off as well,” said the dressmaker. “The waitress uniforms have built in petticoats.”
A little nervously I slipped my arms out of the shoulder straps of my slip and slid it down my body. Although Alice and her mother had seen me in bra and knickers before, this was the first time I had stood in front of another woman with my knickers on display.
She helped me on with the first waitress uniform. This was black with a white collar. The bodice fitted snugly to show off the shape of my bust. There were several layers of frilly white petticoats which made the skirt flare out from the waist. The white frills were visible around the hem of the skirt. The uniform was quite short – only just long enough to conceal my stocking-tops when I stood still. “Oh yes,” said Alice, “That’s perfect.” as her hand reached up the back of my skirt to fondle my bottom.
The next uniform was a pinafore dress. “This is a practical dress for doing the housework in,” explained the dressmaker. “It’s quite long so that you can kneel down without risking a ladder in your stockings.” The dress opened up completely at the back. I put my arms in the long sleeves and Alice fastened the buttons down the back of the bodice from the neck to the waist. Long straps on each side of the skirt passed round the front of my waist and were tied in a large bow at the back. It looked rather like a 1950’s dress, with quite a full skirt coming down to about 8 inches below my knees. I soon realised, however, that the sides of the skirt did not overlap at the back. In fact there was a small gap that probably meant that I would always be showing a glimpse of my knickers. And my bottom was even more accessible to wandering hands than when wearing the waitress dress. The dressmaker asked me to reach a bag off the table and as I bent forward another feature of the pinafore dress became apparent. The sides of the skirt parted so that my knicker-clad bottom was displayed. “Wonderful!” giggled Alice.
“Now the third uniform is probably only for those special, more intimate, occasions,” said the dressmaker. “It’s another waitress outfit only rather shorter in the skirt.”
Short it certainly was! Standing as demurely as I could in front of the full-length mirror I could see a hint of my pink knickers peeping out below the tiny skirt. As well as several inches of creamy hairless thigh with white suspenders attached to taut black stocking-tops. “Oh, VERY sexy,” said my wife.
I felt a tingling sensation in the end of my **** and hoped that this wasn’t the start of an erection. Perhaps realising this, Alice quickly helped me out of the dress. But she made me wait in my bra and knickers, handing each uniform in turn to the dressmaker to fold and put into bags, before allowing me to put my slip and dress back on again.
On Friday the dressmaker rang to say that the maid’s uniforms were ready. So on Saturday Alice and her mother accompanied me to go and try them on. I had been practising and could now (with a bit of a struggle) reach the back zip of my dress. On this occasion, my wife helped me and I stepped out of the dress. “You’ll need to take your slip off as well,” said the dressmaker. “The waitress uniforms have built in petticoats.”
A little nervously I slipped my arms out of the shoulder straps of my slip and slid it down my body. Although Alice and her mother had seen me in bra and knickers before, this was the first time I had stood in front of another woman with my knickers on display.
She helped me on with the first waitress uniform. This was black with a white collar. The bodice fitted snugly to show off the shape of my bust. There were several la
The next uniform was a pinafore dress. “This is a practical dress for doing the housework in,” explained the dressmaker. “It’s quite long so that you can kneel down without risking a ladder in your stockings.” The dress opened up completely at the back. I put my arms in the long sleeves and Alice fastened the buttons down the back of the bodice from the neck to the waist. Long straps on each side of the skirt passed round the front of my waist and were tied in a large bow at the back. It looked rather like a 1950’s dress, with quite a full skirt coming down to about 8 inches below my knees. I soon realised, however, that the sides of the skirt did not overlap at the back. In fact there was a small gap that probably meant that I would always be showing a glimpse of my knickers. And my bottom was even more accessible to wandering hands than when wearing the waitress dress. The dressmaker asked me to reach a bag off the table and as I bent forward another feature of the pinafore dress became apparent. The sides of the skirt parted so that my knicker-clad bottom was displayed. “Wonderful!” giggled Alice.
“Now the third uniform is probably only for those special, more intimate, occasions,” said the dressmaker. “It’s another waitress outfit only rather shorter in the skirt.”
Short it certainly was! Standing as demurely as I could in front of the full-length mirror I could see a hint of my pink knickers peeping out below the tiny skirt. As well as several inches of creamy hairless thigh with white suspenders attached to taut black stocking-tops. “Oh, VERY sexy,” said my wife.
I felt a tingling sensation in the end of my **** and hoped that this wasn’t the start of an erection. Perhaps realising this, Alice quickly helped me out of the dress. But she made me wait in my bra and knickers, handing each uniform in turn to the dressmaker to fold and put into bags, before allowing me to put my slip and dress back on again.