Fantasy In Satin

I woke up slowly, surrounded by a pleasant perfume, my head lying on something satiny soft. Sleepily, I opened my eyes. My beautiful wife was gazing down at me, smiling tenderly. The lace from her peignoir sleeve trailed across my face as she pushed some of my hair that had fallen over my brow back from my face.

By Bea

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It was more than a little makeup, but a little while later there was no doubt as to the sex of the person looking back at me from the mirror. Scarlet, pouty lips; curled, mascara'd eyelashes: blue eyeshadow; darkened tapering eyebrows, cheeks just touched with blusher. "Don't want to overdo it with this." Rose had said as she gently stroked my cheeks with the brush. "Your skin tone is nice, but too much blusher can make a girl with your complexion look kinda tarty. Know what I mean?" I had to nod in agreement. I didn't really know what she was talking about, but felt that arguing any point with the women in my life didn't pay.

"Ok miss Henry. My turn." She said, sitting on the makeup bench beside me. "Upsa daisy!" She handed me the hairbrush. "My hair really doesn't need it, but I find that getting it brushed relaxes me. So be a good girl?"

Standing there in my lingerie, I proceeded to do what she wanted by brushing her hair. After a few minutes she looked into the mirror and spoke to me. "You've got nice soft hands. A little more practice at this and you'll be really good. Betcha!" Then she paused. "I'll have to think up another name for you though 'Henry' doesn't cut it. What do you think?" "You mean a girls name?" I asked tremulously. "Of course! What else?" "Ellen gave me one already." I told her. "She did! Funny, she never told me." "It was just a little while ago, when she sent me to get you." "So. What is your new name?" "Henrietta."

She made a little tutting noise with her lips. "Not very original, but .." At that point she paused, then smiled brightly. "You did take french at school, didn't you?" "Yes. It was one of my best subjects.. Why do you ask?" I replied. "She may have had a stroke of genius calling you Henrietta - it's a perfect name for a French maid." She leaned further back in her chair. "Curtsey for me and say 'oui mam'zelle."

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