The doorbell rang at exactly 6:00 p.m. My wife and I looked at each other knowing it was him. I think both of our faces showed nervous excitement, as I'm sure mine did. I just hoped mine didn't show the second thoughts.

“How do I look?” she asked as she adjusted herself after standing up.

“Beautiful,” I replied. “How do I look?”

“Like a beautiful drag queen,” she joked.

“Oh thanks,” I quipped.

“Remember, you're the one that likes to dress,” she said and then led the way to the front door.

“Well, here goes,” she nervously stated and opened the door.

There before us stood a well-groomed man of average build, who appeared to be a little younger than the two of us. I immediately noticed his blue eyes and straight blonde hair, which I envied as my blonde hair is curly. He wore a dark suit of high quality, and in his hands were two bouquets of flowers, and a bottle of wine. His blonde mustache was well trimmed and extended slightly beyond the corners of his mouth. On his lips was a nervous smile.

“Good evening, Nancy.” he greeted her. His voice had a baritone firmness that mine lacked.

“Good evening, Peter,” she replied.

I couldn't tell if she was aroused, but she was happy to see him. It was a slightly nervous happy.

“You look beautiful,” he went on, standing in the doorway.

“Thank you,” she replied, with a nervous nod. “Thank you, and you look nice, too.”

There was an awkward moment as we all stood there at the door before she asked him to come in and she closed the door.

“This is my husband, Harry,” she said as she introduced me after closing the door.

“Good evening Peter,” I said, as I gave a slight bow.

“Good evening,” he acknowledged with a nod. “Dressed so nice, shouldn't Harry be Harriet tonight?” he asked my wife.

She looked at me, and then at him.

“Yes, yes, I supposed you're right,” she said, a bit of nervousness in her words. “Yes, yes he should be Harriet.”

“And shouldn't she curtsy rather than a bow?” he went on.

“I'm not sure about the 'she' part, but a curtsy would be better, yes,” she agreed.

He hadn't been through the door sixty seconds and he was already changing things.

“Peter, this is my husband, Harriet.”

I did an awkward dip, holding the edges of my skirt, as I thought I had seen in movies, and he again greeted me, only this time as Harriet. He then gave Nancy the larger of the two bundles of flowers, and me the smaller. He handed her the bottle of wine, wish she then handed to me.

“Put the flowers in water and the wine on the rack,” Nancy instructed me.

I gave another awkward dip and left the room.

“While Harry, er, I mean Harriet, gets things ready, let's sit down and chat,” I heard Nancy say as I left the room.

I wasn't overly thrilled about the name change. Not that it was degrading, I mean I was already in a dress and all made up, but I wish he'd come up with a better name. It felt like I was being addressed as my grandma. But in either case, my wife wanted supper served at 6:15 and I had it ready.

“What is it, Harriet?” she asked after I had come into the room and curtsied.

“Dinner is ready, ma'am,” I answered.

“Horny? Er-I mean hungry? Sorry,” Nancy stammered.

I could tell by her red face that her words were an honest error.

“Let's start with the hungry,” Pete remarked. “Yes, I am.”

I quickly returned to the dining room and stood behind the table to wait for them. They entered the room, my wife in the lead. He helped her with her chair and then took his. The table sat six, and they were at the opposite end. I sat where I always sat when the family got together, at the head. It dawned on me that that would be the only head I'd be getting tonight.

Peter complimented the appearance of the settings as he sat down and placed his napkin over his lap. I served them their meals, my wife, first, and then went to pour their wine, Peter stopped me and said that he only drank water at meals. My wife elected to do the same, and I got iced water from the frig. Without being told, I also drank water.

There was very little talk at the table, other than his complimenting my wife's cooking. They both had seconds, and I noted that his table manners were flawless. After I had taken away their dishes and brought dessert, Peter asked a question.

“Harriet, what is it you want to see tonight, between your wife and me?”

A bit nervous, I looked to Nancy.

“Tell the man what's on your mind,” she told me.

“I want you to treat her with respect, be gentle, and attentive to her needs and satisfaction.”

“That's beautiful!” my wife exclaimed, as she got up from her chair and came to me.

I got up as did Peter.

“I love you, “ she said as she hugged me.

“And I love you.”

“Harriet, you have nothing to worry about,” Peter said as Nancy returned to her chair.

“Thank you,” I replied.

I poured coffee, and we all enjoyed our desserts.

My wife is a fantastic cook and had put a lot of work into the meal, Peter was genuinely impressed with it and thoroughly enjoyed it. I, on the other hand, do not remember tasting any of it nor having much of an appetite.

“Why don't we go to the living room while Harry, I mean Harriet cleans up?” my wife asked Peter when they had finished their desserts.

“Sounds like a wonderful idea,” he agreed.

“Harriet, bring us the wine in the living room,” my wife instructed.

“Yes ma'am,” I answered with a curtsy.

As they were walking out of the room I heard Peter ask her, and saw his hand as his chest, “Are they real?”

“No, fake,” she laughed.

A minute or so later I entered the room with the bottle of wine and two glasses. They were sitting together on the love seat, and Nancy had turned the music on. I poured, handed them their wine, curtsied and left.

“To a night of many orgasms,” I heard Peter say.

My wife sort of purred, and then I heard the crystal click of the glasses. The tray and glasses were from the set our son and his wife had got us last year for our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.

Over the time that I busied myself with clearing away the dishes the two of them talked. From where I worked I could see and hear very little. Nancy had made it a point that she didn't want me looking it as she took the time to get to know him. The almost silliness of that pained me. Getting to know someone that you have already agreed to have sex with just struck me as weird, yet I agreed. A couple of times Nancy gave out a good laugh at something he's said. I always loved her laugh, it was a solid laugh, full of energy and life, I was wondering if he felt the same about it sitting next to her.

A couple of minutes later, as I was loading the dishwasher, I noted that it had gotten a bit quiet in the living room. I hurriedly finished loading, started the machine, wiped down the counter got me a glass and went to join them.

“Starting?” I asked as I encountered them at the entrance to the living room, they were going down the hall.

“No, just got something to take care of,” Peter answered.

“Take, take care of?' I asked, looking from Nancy to him and back to her.

“It's okay,” Nancy interjected. “He's just going to shave me.”

“Shave you?”

“Come now Harriet,” Peter quipped. “You should never have spaghetti on a taco.”

“Well then, let's do it,” I said, my excitement growing.

“Not necessary,” Peter replied.

He brushed me aside as they proceeded toward the main bathroom, my wife gave me a worried look.

I wanted to cry. I went and got the bottle of bourbon poured myself a shot and drank it, and then went back to their bottle of wine. It pained me. Twenty-six years of marriage and seldom could I ever get her to shave, even for our anniversary last year, she wouldn't. This guy had been in our house barely an hour, and in that time had changed my name, had me curtsying, and was now shaving my wife's pussy. Something told me that I'd made a mistake.

From down the hall, and behind the closed bathroom door, came the sound of running water, and a muffled giggle. It hurt that they closed the door, and it hurt even more that I was being excluded. Yet, I sat there with an erection. I lifted my skirt and slip out of the way to see my thin panties being pushed out, the liner slick with precum. “I see no reason for you to get excited,” I told my throbbing member. I smooth my dress back out and took another drink of wine. From down the hall, I heard the muffled laughter of my wife. For a while, I sat there and tried to picture in my mind the shaving, though hurt. I did smile when I wondered what his reaction would be when he saw her huge clit.

The flush of the toilet brought me back to the now. I wiped away a tear and took another swallow. From down the hall came the sound of the bathroom door opening and the two of them in conversation. I got to my feet, still not stable in my new heels.

“Spaghetti gone?” I asked.

“Spaghetti gone,” he replied, as he looked at my wife.

I looked at her and she looked form him to me, and in her face, I could see that her huge love button was a joy to him as well.

“Yes, we don't like spaghetti on out tacos,” I remarked.

“Spaghetti all gone,” Nancy joked, as she sat back down. “Pete, show Harriet your doctor paper.”

“Doctor paper?” I quizzed.

“Yes,” she went on. “He has a clean bill of health, no diseases.”

The was the first time that I'd seen Peter look uncomfortable.

“That's nice to know,” I said, not sure what to say on such a topic.

“I really don't think that needed said Nancy,” Peter said, in a condescending manner.

“I just thought he might like to know,” she countered.

“Now she knows,' he said.

I began to pour them more wine when my wife stopped me.

“No, no more right now,” she said.

“Are you ready?” Peter asked.

“Are you?” she countered.

Is anyone gonna ask me? I thought. A line from an old song from the sixties came to mind, “get ready, for here I come.” Not sure the name of the song or the band, as I was very young, but there it was in my head.

“Whenever you are,” he said, his voice soft, and his right hand on her left thigh.

My wife looked over at me, her face was one of masked uncertainty.

“Har-Harriet, are you ready?” she asked.

I forced a smile on my face and said, “Whenever you feel the need.”

“Well then, let's do it,” she said.

Peter helped her to her feet, and for a moment they paused to look into each other's eyes. I stood there watching, wondering what was going through her mind. At this point, I knew I just wanted the night to be over. My thoughts were interrupted when Peter took her in his arms and kissed her. I felt my blood begin to boil. It was greeting too personal, yet I was helpless to do anything but watch.

“I'm sorry, did I startle you?” Peter asked when they broke.

“Yes, I wasn't expecting that,” she replied, as she looked from him to me and back.

“I'm sorry, I just figured-”

“It's okay,” she said, as she again looked over at me. “Harry lead the way.”

“Yes ma'am,” I replied with a curtsy and turned around.

She called me Harry, I thought to myself as we went down the hall. She called me Harry.
They wrapped their arms around each other and followed me down the hall.

“Here we are,” she said when we stopped in front of the guest room door.

I opened the door turned on the light and stepped back out of their way.

“Here we go,” Peter said, then he scooped Nancy up in his arms and carried into the room. I followed.

He set her down on the edge of the bed and then stood up and looked around.

“Nice intimate setting,” he remarked.

“I thought it perfect for the three of us,” she answered a nervous smile on her face.

“I'm guessing that is for her?” Peter asked as he pointed to a stool with a butt plug fastened on it.

“Yes,” she answered. “Harriet will be sitting on it watching.”

“That thing fits in you?” He asked.

“Yes, sir,” I replied. Now I know why she asked me for it a couple of weeks ago.

There are times he'll come to bed with it in for the night,” Nancy began, a smile on her face and her eyes sparkling for the first time tonight.

“Really?”

“Yes. He'll have himself wrapped with duct tape to keep in in place.”

They both broke out in uncontrollable laughter. I was soon laughing with them.

“It-it is so funny look-looking,” she continued. “All-all night. Precum ooz-oozing out of him a lot of the night.”

Peter dropped down on the bed next to her still laughing.

“But, but I'll tell what,” she went on. “The next day the sex is so intense.”

I smiled when Peter looked up at me.

“Something about that thing in there all night makes him go on and on.”

“Plugs can be fun,” he said, as he began to get control of himself.

The laughter seemed to wash away the fears and apprehensions that I had been having, and from the look on Nancy's face, the same was true with her.

As the laughter died down, Peter moved and sat my wife on his lap.

Well, it's starting, I said to myself.

“Harriet, strip for us,” my wife ordered.

I was a little surprised by her word but answered with a curtsy, “Yes ma'am.”

I started to do what I thought was a sexy dance and they both began to laugh.

“No, please don't,” my wife laughed. “Just take your clothes off.”

Following her instructions, I took off my heels and then my blouse.

“No,” she interrupted “Don't just throw it aside. You have to fold everything. Make it neat, you'll be wearing this stuff again.”

I did as I was told, folding each item and setting it in a neat stack. As I stripped I wonder what she was getting at about wearing it all again. She never liked my cross-dressing and tonight she had been encouraging it, I couldn't make sense of it.

I soon stood before them naked, with a solid erection.

“How big?” Peter asked me.

“A little over six-and-a-half-inches, sir,” I replied.

“A little longer than me,” he said.

“Oh,” my wife interjected. Her tone seemed to carry a little bit of disappointment.

“But just by looking I know I am thicker,” he went on.

“Oh!” My wife nearly exclaimed, her eyes a little bit wider.

“Yes sir,” I said.

“Okay, now jack-off,” Nancy ordered.

“Yes, ma'am,” I acknowledged.

“And make sure you catch it in your hand,” she added.

“Yes, ma'am.”

As I began to masturbate, Peter's hands went to her breasts, cupping them on the outside of her blouse. As I continued, I watched as he massaged them, quickly bringing delight to my wife. My pleasure was building as she laid her head back against his shoulder, at which point his hands went under his blouse. His actions didn't bother me, as they were clouded by my own desire. Soon he was kissing her neck, and I was feeling a peak. His right hand came out and up and began to unbutton her blouse when she turned her attention back to me.

“Here he cums,” she announced.

As if on cue, I exploded into my hand.

Nancy clapped as the cheeks of my butt repeatedly tensed, shooting the hot, milky essence from the swollen head of my member.

My heart pounding, my breathing heavy, I looked at her temporarily spent.

“You know what to so,” she quipped.

“Yes, ma'am,” I replied, and licked my hand clean.

Peter watched and then announced, “Now it's our turn.”

“Not yet,” my wife countered. “I have to get him ready.”

“Ready?” Peter quizzed, as he looked from Nancy to me and back to her.

“Yes,” she said and got up.

Following her instruction, I placed the stool at the foot of the bed, at its corner. I then lubed my butt plug and straddled it. Peter watched intently as I lowered myself to its rounded point, and then sat down on it.

“Damn!” Peter exclaimed, at the ease that it slid into me.

Once in place, Nancy cuffed my hands behind my back, and then fastened the shackles to my ankles. She then stepped back and took a look at me.

“I believe that this is some of that bondage fantasy stuff of yours, isn't it?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Good,” she quipped and kissed me on the forehead.

She walked over to Peter, who took her in his arms. They engaged in a deep and passionate kiss, which hit me hard in the pit of my stomach.

As they parted from their kiss, my wife looked over at me and said, “Now I'm ready.”