Dress up

In the bedroom, I stripped out of my work suit, casting aside the boring gray slacks and jacket, shirt and tie of my normal office day. I took off my underpants too and then, body quivering a little at the wrongness of it, slid the pair of red lace panties that I had taken off Keenan up my smooth hairless legs, tucking my little dick neatly into them.

Wearing nothing but my wife's sexy panties, I opened the closet and started pulling out her clothes. With a certain amount of skill that showed this was not my first time doing this, I soon found the matching red lace bra that I had bought her for Valentine's Day and soon it sat on my flat chest, filled out with some rolled up skin colored pantyhose to give me the shape of my wife's C-cups. I licked my lips with pleasure at the soft feel of the red stockings with lace tops that I rolled up my legs and fastened to a garter belt, wondering what on earth the big black stud that I had once adopted as my son would think to see me like this.

Making sure that Keenan was still sitting quietly downstairs waiting for me, not wanting to be seen just yet, I snuck back over the laundry basket and found inside the red and white flower pattern sun dress that my wife had been wearing the day before. Thinking back now to her wearing the dress with its skirt brushing around her knees and her large chest threatening to spill out as she bent over to kiss our son on the cheek before he went out for his weekend job, I could now picture something in Keenan's eyes. I could now recall the hungry look as he eyed his adoptive mother up and down. I could even imagine the bulge as his big black dick strained against his pants and he awkwardly tried to cover it from his mother. It was a thought that got me unnaturally excited as I slipped the dress over my head and zipped it up.

Back in the bedroom, I slid my feet into a pair of my wife's red patent leather pumps, thinking (not for the first time) how lucky it was that my little pecker was indeed matched by little feet that allowed me to fit my wife's shoes pretty well. Plenty of nights alone while my wife was on one of her business trips and my black sons had been tucked up in bed, I'd tried these clothes on and practiced walking in her four inch heels and now I was pretty expert at the hip swaying walk that made all the guys stare at her ass.

Finally, and becoming increasingly aware that my adopted son would not wait quietly forever for what I had promised him, I sat in front of the mirror and began to apply eyeshadow, mascara and shining scarlet lipstick to my full, feminine lips, topping the whole look off with a blonde Halloween wig. From a momentary glance in the floor length mirror in my wife's closet door I could almost have been mistaken for her. It would only be by looking closer that anyone would realize that the hot babe in the reflection was really her dolled up husband.

With butterflies in my stomach, feeling tense, nervous but an excited anticipation, I stepped out of the bedroom and downstairs, walking heel-toe, clicking my shiny red heels on the stairs. I had been dressing in my wife's clothes for years, but never before revealed it to anyone. Now my eighteen year-old son, the big black stud all the high school girls wanted, was going to be the first to see. How would he react? I guess I was about to find out.

"Mom? I thought you were at work too..." Keenan began as I sashayed through the living room door in my wife's red and white floral print dress, "Oh... Oh God... Dad, it's you. What the hell?"