Before I was married, I boldly went forth to Frederick's of Hollywood. It was a fine day in Southern California (actually I don't remember what the day was like, but the chamber of commerce made us promise to always describe the weather in positive terms before we were allowed to leave the state). The store was devoid of other customers, and the female salesperson was young and friendly. I explained with some obvious embarrassment that I needed help in buying clothes for a costume party. You see, by the rules of the party, it had been determined by a drawing that I was to come as a female hooker. I had planned my lie very carefully, and I had written the words "female hooker" on a slip of paper. The clerk was amused, but understanding, and she set to helping me with my needs. (In retrospect, I'm sure she knew exactly what was going on, but who cares.) We found some things for me to try, and she ushered me into a dressing room. During her coming and going to bring me things to try, she even managed to walk in while I was clad only in panties and fishnet stockings (big accident you suppose?). I wasn't able to say that I really wanted a miniskirt, so I ended up with a red, knee-length wrap skirt in a very light fabric (actually is was pretty sleazy when teamed with the black fishnets and a black turtleneck). The nice young lady even got out her trusty needle and thread to move the button so the skirt would fit better (what service). When she stood back to survey what she had created, she seemed quite pleased.

In the end, there was no big Penthouse letters type ending, no mad sex because she was turned on by a man in a skirt, no blackmail to force me to serve as her she-male slut, no stealing of my clothes so I would be forced to leave in women's clothing (sigh). Nevertheless, I did have the pleasure of dressing up "in public" and "with" a woman. And I did end up buying a fun outfit (that was never worn out of the house).